The Bachelor
by silmelinde
Summary: One handsome Admiral. Twenty five lovely women. It will be an adveture filled with romance, humour and drama. Who will win his heart?
1. Theodore's Clever Plan

Disclaimer: Not mine - either PotC or The Bachelor. Don't sue me. I've got nothing but wildest dreams.

AU. This story takes place post _At World's End_.

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><p><strong>Theo's Clever Plan<strong>

Groves:

"Surely, Theodore, you realise that when one friend does another friend a favour, 'Thank you. I owe you one.' is merely a figure of speech not meant to be taken advantage of."

James' tone is dripping irony, and I see suspicion forming in his eyes as I call him up on a little debt which he thinks he owes me. The tranquil atmosphere makes him too pliant to interrogate me, allowing room for curiosity and idle conversation. We are lounged comfortably in the armchairs on the front porch of his mansion with a bottle of wine between us. Slanted rays of the setting sun redden his cheeks, and warm us both into rolling up our sleeves and opening up the top buttons of our shirts. His long legs, stretched out far in front of him, are leisurely crossed at the ankles. I am one of the few people who gets to see James this way, uniform and unyielding façade he presents whenever he is at work or in public, aside.

After returning alive from our mission or more likely enslavement with the East Trading Company, I see changes in his behaviour. James is more prone to surrounding himself with luxury; but such statement is too strong, he finally appreciates the usefulness of the basic necessities which every man who can afford them must have, in contrast with the Spartan quarters he kept before. I know he is not that severe to keep an uncomfortably sparse atmosphere in his home. He is just too modest to consider that he needs more material things than he owns.

"You have to admit, I've done an amazing job at covering up the problem with the HMS _Victory_ for the Admiralty's inspection, and I didn't even get a pay raise for it," I claim.

"That would be one problem you've fixed compared to how many you've caused?" he inquires with far too much gravity to be serious.

It is Saturday. Our presence, for once, is not required at the Fort. I hope that no messenger of ill news will appear to interrupt as I slowly and surely lure my friend into a trap. It is like hunting a wild jaguar. I cannot afford to miss, else he will get away.

"I've paid a late visit to Ellen last night," I state cautiously. I know he doesn't approve of my ventures to a married woman, but he feels that he has no right to dictate to me how to live my life, thus he covers it up with another jest, only hinting at his discomfort.

"Do you want me to repay the debt by listening about your endless amorous escapades?" he inquires. "I do so regardless, daily."

"Please, James, don't interrupt. This matter is far more serious than you imagine. I will truly need your cooperation. What I'm about to propose may be risky. I'm afraid that in the long run it may damage our friendship."

He is thrown off by the reversal in the conversation. My fear is sincere. What I'm about to propose may leave him heartbroken. I'm afraid that our eight year friendship may not survive. "Very well," he concedes. "I promise you my full cooperation in whatever it is you've got planned."

I feel guilty about using his loyalty and commitment to our friendship to gain his word, which he is unlikely to break, but it is for his own good, and I continue, "Ellen raised an important social problem. Beckett's reign over Port Royal was harsh. Many families have lost their loved ones based of the slimest suspicions. They are grieving. The town is depressed. There is little interaction happening between the families, and very little romance, which is much needed to maintain the local population. We need to do something to improve the morale."

James is thinking hard, trying to piece together how his cooperation may fit into helping Port Royal. "Perhaps, you should address this issue to the Governor," he recommends. "I am a military leader, not a matchmaker."

"The Governor has been informed. I have his approval, and he promised his cooperation by helping me issue invitations to the eligible women. I have a plan."

"Don't tell me you've decided to end your single status," he asks, but laughs immediately as do I at the preposterous notion.

"I guard my single status more vigorously than a nun her virginity," I parry.

"In this case, I'm mystified. Do share your brilliant solution, which no doubt you have devised." He gestures for me to continue, clearly intrigued, albeit sceptical.

I must proceed carefully. I am exaggerating the problem a little. A grain of deception is necessary; otherwise, James will refuse to do what is good for him even if he desperately needs it. Helping a good cause, however, he will not be able to decline. That, and the imaginary debt of honour which he thinks he owes me for helping him with the inspection. It truly had been a difficult day where my help proved invaluable. The Admiralty was reluctant to put a man back in charge who had resigned his post with a bad record before, but the entire local population demanded it. The Admiralty had to yield or face the displeasure of the masses. James doesn't know that this is about him. About the love and devotion he deserves. Being a good friend, I know he will find it. Since he doesn't want to take charge of improving his romantic life, which hadn't been too engaging before, but after Elizabeth became downright nonexistent, I have to.

"We must find a single man. He must be handsome, intelligent, of excellent social status, and wealthy enough to attract enough women to want to win his heart. And we will marry him off to one of them."

"The poor sap - married off due to the matchmaking abilities of Theodore Groves."

It's a positive sign that James is joking. He is the no nonsense man. If my idea is not satisfactory, he will say 'no' directly, and there will be no arguing about it.

"I have it all planned out. We will start with twenty five women. I will organise dates and group dates for the bachelor to get to know these women better. At the end of each week, there will be a rose ceremony. The bachelor will hand out the roses to the women he forms the strongest attachments with. There will be fewer roses left after each ceremony, thus eventually narrowing down the circle to the one woman who impresses him the most. When there are so many young ladies getting to know him closely, there has got to be at least one he might fall in love with. This experience will no doubt engage the public and bring us out of the emotional stupor we're all suffering."

I know what James is thinking. He believes that, providing I manage to bring the entire plan into action, unlikely, it will throw the town into wild gossip and frenzy. James thinks that I need him to oversee the security, and warning him in advance about the upcoming problem. He has no idea what I have truly planned for him. I watch him closely to commit to memory his expression when I will inform him how much he is mistaking.

"Just who do you propose is going to be your victim? But, I amend, the bachelor?" he asks.

I give James my best conspiracy smile, and click my wine glass against his.

"You are."

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><p>So, what do you think? XD Are we ready to start the hunt for James' heart?<p>

Theo tried his best and these are the women he managed to find for his friend. Choose your favourites.

**The Bachelorette List**

1. Amanpreet – 20, spoiled, pretends to be modest but isn't

2. Yulia – 24, well read, devout, uptight

3. Shannen – 19, drunk, thinks she is better than everyone else

4. Lucia – 22, pushover, modest, kind

5. Louisa – 21, outgoing, funny, honest, horse face

6. Thelma – 16, has many siblings, mature, reliable

7. Winona – 18, snobbish, rational, intelligent

8. Ramona – 21, bookish, educated, well mannered, reserved, long nose

9. Rhea – 26, compassionate, tender, widow, mother of three children

10. Olivia – 23, well tempered, patient, disgraced, fiancée abandoned her

11. Doris – 17, ambitious, fashioned herself into a woman she thinks James would like

12. Carmen – 19, adventurous, free spirited, tomboy

13. Naomi – 18, afraid to break a nail, honest about being high maintenance, genuine

14. Nessa – 20, old fashioned, husband is more important than wife, defers to the partner

15. Kerri – 17, insecure, likely to crumble under pressure

16. Janet – 20, twin, playful

17. Julia – 20, twin, quiet

18. Heather – 21, wealthy, bully, sides with drama, looks down on others

19. Blair – 19, tough minded, fights other women, obnoxious

20. Brenda – 21, beautiful, daughter of a broke nobleman

21. Octavia – 16, youngest in the family, used to attention

22. Ursula – 22, good values, boring, keeps talking about the knitting

23. Jade – 19, graceful, gifted in music and dancing

24. Tracy – 19, gossipy, not overly bright, nosy

25. Joanna – 23, lost her fiancée, melancholy, tries to live again


	2. First Impressions

James:

I used to believe that nothing will ever unnerve me more than my proposal to Elizabeth Swann. I have been mistaken. Waiting for the twenty five women to arrive, explicitly to meet me, is about the same number of times more daunting. I am not good with women. They are mysterious creatures, delicate yet remarkably resilient to the vicissitudes of life. I am ever at a loss how to behave around them, wondering when they need support and when admiration.

I could almost swear that Theodore takes delight in my suffering. He, most defiantly, refuses to share with me as much as the names of these women, thus depriving me of an opportunity to plan in advance what I may say to them. He tells me that I must behave naturally, which means that I will surely stutter and make a fool of myself. I feel at a disadvantage because they know a lot about me, whereas I know nothing about them.

An earnest clap on my back, strong enough to throw me off balance, brings me out of the nervous contemplation, and Theodore's face with a barely disguised smirk appears before me.

"Already caving in under pressure?" he inquires, supposedly after my well being.

"What gave me away?" I retort with enough sarcasm to wipe that pleased smirk off his face. "My trembling knees?"

"My dear friend, there is absolutely nothing for you to be worried about because you are as fine a man as can be, no doubt already igniting many hearts with love. We've received an agreement from every woman within three days of our proposal, which only serves to prove your credibility. Allow me to share how very envious I am of your current situation."

"You should be in my shoes then, Theo," I offer. "It is not too late to switch places before they arrive."

"Not a chance, as long as I have the ability to foresee the consequences. I may enjoy all the attention these women may be willing to bestow on me now, but my tale will have the saddest conclusion when in the end I will choose my freedom over a bride. I'm afraid that death by lacy, female handkerchiefs stuffed down my throat may be sexually attractive, but far too undignified even for me. You, however, I have much higher hopes for to walk away with a ring on your finger and the love of your life on your arm."

"Shame," I say, suspecting more trouble in a rose clasped in his hand. "And here I was suffering a delusion that you've arrived to hand out the flowers in my stead."

"This is the first impression rose," he informs me with an exaggerated serenity and an entirely guiltless look of delivering these news to me unexpectedly. "You may give it out on a whim, as soon as you see the one who impresses you, or after talking to some lovely woman, but you must offer this rose before the party ends. The woman you give this to will be safe through the next rose ceremony. I'd like to say choose wisely, but you think too much as it is, so use your intuition."

"You truly know how to comfort a friend. This is exactly what I am in need of, more things to keep on my mind during the course of this evening."

Theodore is never abashed. He winks, placing a rose on a marble column by my right arm, and retreats into the greenery where he will be overseeing my first meeting with each woman. He believes he can provide a valuable outside opinion on their behaviour afterwards, but I'm confident that he is primarily motivated by the desire to spy on them.

The waiting does not last long, but I feel acutely every minute of it, listening for the sound of the hove beats that will bring the first carriage. Nervousness quickly assaults me while I stand at the bottom of the steps that lead into the mansion. I am glad that I've retained my uniform. Theodore was against it, demanding that I wear civilian clothes, but I've had just about enough of his blackmail and pushing. I feel more in my element in the uniform, which has always served me like armour. I will have plenty to worry about to be concerned about my looks. Perhaps, I can let my guard down when fewer women remain.

The most intimidating part is that Theodore with his ever present charm instilled hope in me that I will find true love. Reason suggests that it is impossible, yet I am incapable of becoming involved a cause that I do not believe in. I will never agree to play false with any woman's feelings, no matter how important the reason may be. I went along with Theodore's plan because I want to spend the rest of my life with my soul mate. I am both bewildered and grateful that so many women are willing to meet me and give us a chance at love. Their courage is inspiring. A happy ending is something I'm afraid to believe in, but I do, desperately so. I want to find the woman of my dreams. I am ready to open my heart again.

* * *

><p><span>Lucia:<span>

My bags are packed. I am set to go. I hug my cat goodbye.

"I am going to meet a very handsome man today," I tell him, stroking the silky fur. Snow blinks his dark green eyes at me sleepily. They are huge and all knowing. He licks my hand, providing comfort.

There is a shadow of fear in me, aside from the discomfort of leaving my home. Every eligible woman at Port Royal knows who James Norrington is. Every one of them at least once must have entertained a fantasy what it would be like to share her life with him. I am no exception. I've seen the Admiral in town occasionally, but I do not believe he had ever noticed me. Every time he was deeply involved in helping someone. His kindness always inspired me to be kinder and more helpful to those in need. He leaves a very strong impression upon anyone he meets. Admiring him from the distance was good enough for me. I'm afraid to get any closer to him. I'm afraid that I may genuinely fall in love with him, but no doubt he will not choose me. I am not remarkable.

"I may get my heart broken," I inform Snow. He yawns widely as I return him to my pillow. He is currently my only love. I will miss his purring and his calming presence when he curls on my knees in the evenings. Without any support, I will have to take comfort in what my mother told me when I tried to protest my involvement.

"I believe this will be a beneficial experience for you even if your heart gets broken," she informed me adamantly. "I am concerned that at your age you still haven't experienced the greatest emotion gifted by God to the mankind, the ups and downs of love. I've been patient with you, Lucia, but at twenty two you are becoming a spinster. I am your mother, and if you will not, then I will have to push you out of your comfort environment. It's wonderful that you will compete with other women. Perhaps, you will find something worth fighting for rather than always passively watching the world run past you."

My mother is wise, even if she is wrong about my experience. I should trust her and do my best. I may find love, again.

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><p><span>Carmen:<span>

The weather is brilliant with the evening sky coloured in crimson clouds, and a refreshing wind picking up from the north. We have perfect conditions to reach the mansion without any damage to our finery. The carriage ride is full of fun and good cheer. I talk a lot and laugh a lot with my companions. Their personalities are agreeable with the faults and positives of their own. For instance, I wouldn't defer my judgement to Tracy to form a fair opinion of anyone. She knows far too many unflattering details about everyone in her social circle, especially other young women. But, even if I wouldn't make her my confidant, she is an excellent conversationalist and a source of news.

James Norrington is the center of all the discussion. In spite of his popularity, he is a highly private man, thus we are left to focus on details, speculating what he will be wearing and what type of woman he is looking for. Many are of an opinion that he prefers the temperament of Miss Swann, whereas others believe he may want something different due to his ill experience. His heartbreak is regretful. I hope he will find the right woman to love him. He is an admirable man. I regret not having taken an opportunity to speak with him before.

When our carriage stops, we release an exulted squeal at the sight of the striking figure waiting for us at the end of the red carpet that runs from the carriage door to no other than Admiral James Norrington.

I am the first to come out of the first carriage. I volunteer to come out first. I am not afraid. I was the first woman to agree to this idea as soon as I heard about it. I am always first.

I cross the distance between us swiftly, while taking in the hands clasped behind his back and eyebrows drawn together in concentration. He is aloof and distant. Confidently, I raise my chin higher, challenging him to think any ill of me as I give him my name, but instantly regret my quick judgement.

"G-good evening," he greets me.

I've never heard a rumour that he stutters; Tracy surely would have mentioned it. With all the status that he shoulders, one would assume that he may be arrogant, but he can still be more nervous than I am. I find his bout of shyness endearing.

"What's the difference between a fish and a piano?" I ask him. I have to bite my cheek because he considers the question seriously.

"I'm confident that a brilliant young woman such as you will graciously enlighten me," he entreats.

There is a warm flutter in my stomach. I am unexpectedly reluctant to be silly, which is plainly ridiculous to even consider with me being me. "You can't tuna fish," I proceed.

He makes an honest effort to laugh. I am simply pleased that I've managed to put him at ease. His shoulders relax, and he unclasps his hands. He bows to me elegantly rather than stiffly, but I have none of it, and impose a modest hug on him. I would never have hugged him during the first introduction under any other circumstances, but a hug feels more appropriate than bowing when one shows up to meet their possible soul mate. I tell him what I'm thinking directly, and he smiles. He appreciates honesty.

His smile is warm when it's genuine. Something elusive and touching is revealed, which he keeps concealed, as it lights his face. He is a serious man who doesn't get to smile a lot. He should spend more time with me. I can make him laugh more often.

I am reluctant to leave him so soon, but propriety demands that I go up the steps and enter the open doors of a brilliant, candle lit mansion that beacons me with warmth and adventure. Once on top of the last step, I look back, sadly aware how many beautiful women will be arriving after me. I'm suddenly nervous that he may forget me.

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><p><span>Shannen: <span>

I'm in the third carriage. It's the worst and completely unremarkable place to be. At least in the first carriage the bachelor may remember the first woman to greet him. The most advantage is arriving in the last carriage. He will remember the last woman best. Men have such short memories.

At least, I can see at once that I have no competition in my carriage. The woman beside me, Lucia, is so unremarkable that even the colour of the seat is winning in contrast with her dress. The bachelor will forget her immediately. She is drowned out by the loudest woman I've ever met. Louisa has a long horse face, and exactly the same horse laugh. Surely, a man is looking for a wife not a zoo, or a child for that matter. Thelma cannot be more than sixteen years old. She reminds me of a little hamster lost in the jungle. With the twenty five ladies, and only one undeniably appealing man, she no doubt will get eaten quickly.

The only one who can be of any threat is Winona. At least she has enough sense to look down on her competition through the tight lips and a lioness posture. That regal look will not save her, however. A man needs a wife full of passion. He cannot live while constantly hugging an icicle.

I make small conversation with these foolish women to determine whether there may be more to them than they look, but the carriage stops. I graciously let them all go first to postpone my introduction as much as possible. All of them make a sorry sight, looking awfully nervous and clumsy with their greetings.

Louisa instantly makes a fool of herself by grabbing the bachelor's forearms and asking whether he has registered these guns with the Crown. I've leaned far enough out of the carriage to hear it. This is the most ludicrous compliment I've ever heard. She clearly has an intelligence of a cannon ball, and modesty of a strumpet. I don't want her grabby hands on my future husband.

With all of them gone, I come out in my stunning red dress. There is a rose on a column beside the Admiral. I give him a hint that he should give it to me by asking what he has there, but he ignores it. Pity. I suppose military men aren't supposed to be smart. I guess, it's good when a wife is the clever one in the family to control her husband better. He is definitely a military man. I've heard that he singlehandedly killed two hundred pirates during one of the sea battles, thus he cannot possible smart with a record like this.

Empty handed, I go into the mansion. At least it is hospitable. A servant offers me a drink, and I join mostly a sorry crowd that soon will be going home. While waiting for the bachelor to join us, I make entertaining conversation with Blair and Helen. Helen has a very good insight on people. Her remarks about other women that put them all in their lowly places are wonderful. I wonder which one of them will cry first.

It will be an interesting night.


	3. Blair's Big Bust

BlooperLover your comment about making the fic into series made people who were sitting near me in rl give me the odd 'whacha laughing at?' look. XD

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><p><strong>Blair's Big Bust<strong>

Rhea:

I've always said that I want to intertwine my life with a man who has kind eyes. James, I've received his permission to address him informally, has this quality. I am a confident woman, yet I couldn't help a twinge of anxiety when I first approached him. I suppose, it is normal for a woman to feel apprehensive in a presence of an attractive man. Add his reputation, not impeccable due to the malicious gossip, which any human being of common sense would not hold against him, related to his formal engagement to the Governor's daughter and a sudden resignation from his post, but virtuous regardless, and a strong measure of rigidness one encounters when they first meet him, and it is enough to make a woman feel pressured to behave nothing short of perfect in his presence.

I've realised that such opinion is nothing short of an illusion as soon as I looked into his eyes, so gentle and full of suppressed emotion. I do not need to feign perfection. The best service I can do us both is show him who I am, a mother and a woman who can surround his heart with tenderness. I have a lot of love and care to give. This is why I am looking for the eyes filled with kindness. Not only does my partner need a big heart to love me and take in all my love, but he must accept my children and love them as his own. I've loved my husband dearly, and I know that kindness is what I am looking for in a new relationship.

Janet:

Having my twin with me is a great comfort. I feel that all women in the mansion are barely feigning politeness, but edging to get their claws out at the slightest opportunity. Some of them are already showing, especially Shannen. She cannot keep herself out of the drama and alcohol. My twin and I have decided to play a little prank on her, and mixed a strong batch of scotch into her whiskey. Julia distracted her with conversation meanwhile I created the explosive mixture. The look we've been hoping for, however, didn't happen because Shannen drowned her glass easily without as much as wincing. It will be great fun if she falls down eventually, preferably with her face some place uncomfortable.

Amanpreet came back from one on one chat with the Admiral wearing his jacket. Now everyone hates Amanpreet. She complained about being cold - in this infernal heat! Like a true gentleman he took care of the matter. Maybe we should thank her, however, because he looks even better without the distancing layer of brocade. I wonder, if more of us complained about being cold, can we get his vest and the shirt off too?

Trying to keep things fun and upbeat, my sister and I join the bachelor. We sit down on both sides of him and challenge him to guess which one of us is which twin. He identifies us correctly by name. He certainly has an excellent memory, being able to name all women in the room. And, he is highly observant. I have a tiny birthmark on my neck that distinguishes me from Julia. He noticed it before we've even entered the mansion. Not many are capable of doing so, even when the two of us stand side by side.

I feel that my dear twin has developed a greater fancy for the bachelor than I did. However, I certainly wouldn't decline a rose should he choose to continue our acquaintance. I may yet develop romantic feelings. I certainly think him handsome and agreeable enough.

Brenda:

I've been choosing my timing right, not too late nor early in the evening. I intend to take the bachelor away from another woman, subtly. I wait in the shadowed doorway, observing his private conversation with Kerri. She is genuinely upset. According to gossip, she has developed a crush on him ever since she had met him a month ago, and now she is poorly handling the competition. This girl may have grown into her corset, but she is still an insecure child who should be courted by a young man no older than twenty. It is too early for her to marry, which I think the Admiral sees as well. Her waterworks are starting. Now he truly looks harassed as he makes a clumsy attempt at comforting her.

I have the beauty and the right breeding to make a dazzling first impression. Norrington is the protector of Port Royal. He is a selfless man who will appreciate a selfless act. When her crying reaches its peak, I glide into the room like a guardian angel.

"Oh Heavens, forgive me for interrupting a private moment!" I exclaim. His eyes rise, and I meet them with shyness, allowing him to drown in my beautiful, blue eyes, and then dropping my gaze down to the hem of my blue dress that swirls about me like a mysterious lake. I pretend to be startled, but my seeming compassion wins over shyness and I take a few reluctant steps closer to them to place a comforting hand on Kerri's shoulder. "My dear, you are completely soaking the Admiral's vest," I inform her.

She pulls away, blushing and rubbing her eyes, to his evident relief. "Now, now, don't be shy about crying. I've felt just a little bit sad this evening too. This situation is so unusual, and this party is draining for us all. However, I've remembered that it must be very difficult for Admiral Norrington. I think we should try to make a good impression on him rather than burdening him with our problems."

"Your concerns are not trivial, dear lady. I'd prefer if you do not conceal your troubles from me. I will gladly help in any way I can," he finally addresses me.

"No, she is right," Kerri says quickly, "I am overreacting. Please, forgive me, James."

It is very unpleasant to hear her calling him by his first name so soon. The circumstances are unusual, although I have no objection, because we have been introduced to him by our first names, but we must create a comfortable enough bond with him in order to use his first name. I force an understanding smile. "That's better. You must dry your eyes and smile. You are so pretty when you do. A glass of warm milk will help you calm down, and then you can return to the party. I've seen a kitchen nearby. I will guide you there."

"Thank you," she says, ever so naively, allowing me to pry her hands off him to help her rise.

I drop into a low curtsy before the Admiral, tilting my head back enough to reveal the vulnerable curve of my neck surrounded by curls. "Forgive me, Mr Norrington. I have been so dearly looking forward to speaking with you, but I'm afraid we must postpone our conversation, certainly not for the lack of want. I hope you will give me an opportunity to get to know you better. I'd regret to be sent home."

He tilts his head respectfully, and I feel a moment of triumph. I'm confident that I will not be going home.

"I will do my best to make up for our current lack of interaction, Miss."

I smile and make an exit, taking Kerri with me and out of his life.

Blair:

I assert my rightful place in the center of the room, taking up the largest couch on my own after hunting down the Admiral to be one of the first women to speak with him. I am good at seducing men. It is the feminine art to appeal to their basic instincts, which I've developed ever since I was fourteen. I haven't been able to get him to kiss me, but I'm sure I've caught him looking down my dress. I can't blame him. I have the most appealing cleavage.

Afterwards, the evening progressed without lacklustre. I'm a bright woman with a huge personality. I'm not for everyone. I've busied myself with eliminating all women who I thought lacked all charm to seduce a man of his stature, a task in which Shannen was of great help. One of our targets was Ursula. She presented Norrington with the ugliest scarf I've ever seen. I beg her to tell me who needs a scarf in the Caribbean? Heather is a brilliant woman of a high social position and wealth. She remarked that her maid has a rag similar to this scarf for dusting the windowsills, which I believe shamed Ursula enough because she hurried to excuse herself from our company. Shannen and I, however, felt that we haven't impressed strongly enough on her how ridiculous and out of place she was at this illustrious gathering. We've persisted in following her around the room with our fair critique until she ran away crying.

Rhea, ever the mother, went to comfort her, but not before trying to confront me about the teasing. She thinks she is wiser than other women here because she is a mother, when in fact her age simply makes her old. She is just envious because I am a young, attractive woman who men can't keep their eyes off, much unlike her. I have a strong way of expressing my opinions. I won't let her look down on me. I told her in no uncertain terms that if she has a problem with something she can walk out of the mansion immediately.

Unfortunately, our short bout of entertainment made us lose an important moment. While we were making fun of Ursula, the bachelor has given out the first impression rose. Not only am I outraged by his hypocrisy, because he obviously desires me, but also by his misshapen choice. I would have been happier had it been Helen or Brenda who at least have some assets to look at. But, he has given the rose to that long nosed Ramona who wears glasses because she cannot keep her head out of the books. What could she possibly contribute to a man other than talking utter rubbish about supposedly famous people that died many years ago? Who cares about them if they did? Now, Colonel Bray, who owes a plantation and an income of ten thousand pounds a year, is a famous man, but what good has Aristotle done to anyone? Too much education definitely ruins a woman.

Shannen:

I cannot believe the bachelor has given out the first rose before meeting me. I assume he simply has a bad taste, something I intend to correct when I marry him. Another proof of it is that he is taking too long to notice me. He wastes his time on other women, and tries too hard to share individual time with every one of them. Half of these women don't deserve to be here. They're clearly a bad match for him. Be as it may, my situation isn't good at all. I must do something to leave a memorable impression. Luckily, I've prepared for this trouble in advance.

I take the initiative when he is talking to that pale moth Joanna, and plop onto the couch between them, certain that Norrington will appreciate liberation from her dull company. She's always sad. Her black dress is sad. Her existence is sad. She departs with an apology. Of course she should be sorry; she is a sad waste of space.

I take his hat and put my present into it. The look on his face is priceless as he realises that these are my undergarments. I put my arms around him and cling to his neck while he leads me back to my seat and asks for permission to hand me another drink, but then he leaves as soon as he hands the glass to me. I am unable to follow him or walk around because the room keep spinning, so I am abandoned to observe from the couch as Jade invites him for a dance. She looks great, at least in comparison to him, but he sure is horrible at dancing. Men don't like being made look stupid. She isn't getting a rose.

I think I must have shortly fallen asleep because I never saw Theodore Groves appear to summon the Admiral away to finalise his choice. I am woken by Blair, and make it to the rose ceremony by hanging onto her, where Norrington makes the most boring and useless speech ever.

_"Dear women, this past year filled with peril and losses had not been easy for many of us. Nonetheless, it served to reveal our true values, and forced us to strengthen the bonds with our loved ones, for there is no one dearer to us than they are."_

I wonder why he is not wearing his hat.

_"I believe that this is why we have gathered here, to find someone special to love, to hold and never let go."_

I just want him to give me a rose as soon as possible. I urgently need the chamber pot.

_"I am humbled that each of you have welcomed the chance to meet me. I thank you and your families for opening yourselves to this experience, and taking a risk to find love. All of you have admirable qualities. I hope, those of you who will not receive a rose will accept my sincerest appologies." _

At last he gets down to what's important and picks up the first rose. My balance isn't very good. I'm concerned how I am going to walk up to him when he calls my name or stay upright when Blair's name will be called, but he looks to the other end of the room and says 'Brenda.' I lose count of the other names he calls, but he asks neither of us.

I think it is a foul mistake when he runs out of roses, and everyone begins hugging as if any of the women who stayed are truly sorry for those who must leave. I demand an explanation from the Admiral by calling him a few selective names to which I receive an apology instead of a rose. I am going to sink my nails into his face, but several naval officers appear and drag me out of the room. I'm going to get even with them for mishandling me if I remember their faces! My anger at them is nothing compared to the rage I feel when I think about the Admiral. I'm so over this fool! I wouldn't have accepted a rose had he begged me on his knees to take it from him. A man who ignores me doesn't deserve to be in my presence! I want to go home! I'm done with this cheap comedy!

* * *

><p>Ladies Eliminated:<p>

1. Shannen – 19, drunk, thinks she is better than everyone else

2. Winona – 18, snobbish, stuck up, rational, intelligent

3. Doris – 17, ambitious, fashioned herself into a woman she thinks James would like

4. Kerri – 17, insecure, complains to James about how hard it is to compete with other women

5. Janet – 20, twin, playful

6. Blair – 19, fights other women, obnoxious

7. Octavia – 16, youngest in the family, used to attention

8. Ursula – 22, good values, boring, keeps talking about the knitting

9. Julia – 20, twin, quiet

10. Naomi – 18, afraid to break a nail, honest about being high maintenance, genuine

Ladies who have received a rose:

1. Amanpreet – 20, spoiled, pretends to be modest but isn't

2. Yulia – 24, well read, devoted, uptight, religious

3. Lucia – 22, pushover, modest, kind

4. Louisa – 21, outgoing, funny, honest, horse face

5. Thelma – 16, has many siblings, mature, reliable

6. Ramona – 21, bookish, educated, well mannered, reserved, long nose

7. Rhea – 26, compassionate, tender, widow, mother of three children

8. Joanna – 23, lost her fiancée, melancholy, tries to live again

9. Carmen – 19, adventurous, free spirited, tomboy

10. Tracy – 19, gossipy, not overly bright, nosy

11. Nessa – 20, old fashioned, husband is more important than wife, defers to the partner

12. Olivia – 23, well tempered, patient, disgraced, fiancée abandoned her

13. Heather – 21, wealthy, bully, sides with drama, looks down on others

14. Brenda – 21, beautiful, daughter of a broke nobleman

15. Jade – 19, graceful, gifted in music and dancing

As you can tell by this amazing selection, chaos and mayhem totally rule James' brain at present as to what type of woman he is looking for. Can he figure it out? Will his friends help him?


	4. Bell at Dawn

Groves:

"I cannot help but think, Theo, that you are using my marriage to bring your wicked fantasies to life."

"So, we've established that my idea has merit and it's 'your' wedding now."

"It's your intended method to make it happen that's a suspect because it lacks decency."

This morning, following the rose ceremony, is perfect for the date I've planned. The sun is bright, the breeze is cheery, extremely so in contrast with my dear friend's scowling.

"Call it a necessary evil. You are in military, James. As much as you would love to accommodate your wife and let her spend her day however she likes, you must have one who is quick to gather her wits and put herself together in an emergency. A woman who is going to get ready for the Monday's ball on Wednesday is not going to cut it."

"And in your opinion this merits an invasion into the rooms of unattached women at an unholy hour when they are surely in the state of the undress."

It's fun to watch James when he says 'undress'. The word in itself embarrasses him.

"Aren't you slightly curious what your future wife looks like without her finery? It's you who will be waking up next to her every morning. I hope you don't want a sight more frightening than what we've seen at Isle de Muerta; unless you intend to sleep in the different rooms with your dearly beloved."

"I believe you are getting carried away by your no longer humorous comments, lieutenant commander."

"My method of expressing my concern may not have been the most proper," I admit. The use of my formal title always alerts me whenever I'm edging closer to trouble. "However, I maintain that my point is valid."

We enter the mansion where I've had a surprise installed for everyone prior to their arrival. My pocket watch shows six in the morning. James is clearly intrigued, but he is still reluctant to follow through with my plan as I head to the back of the room and pull aside a blue curtain.

"It's a ship's bell!" James exclaims. "You cannot be serious!"

To prove how serious I am, I break the silence with a swift tug of the rope, and then with a sole purpose of making enough noise to wake the people as far as England I ring the bell thirty more chimes under James' disapproving frown for making the most inappropriate use and entirely wrong chiming rhythm of the bell.

"It's time to visit our lovely want to be Mrs Norringtons," I propose once I'm satisfied that at least the birds around the mansion have taken off the branches with the indignant chirps.

James stalls. "I believe the message has been clear enough. It may be wiser for me to remain downstairs."

"I'm glad that you trust me to wake them for you," I say and slip around James to head for the stairs.

"Only as far as I can see you," he informs me, catching up with me in several long strides.

On the stairs we encounter fully dressed Yulia. She gives me a fright due to her detached look and shadows under her eyes. She informs us that she's been up for an hour, praying.

"We request your presence in the hall upstairs, dear lady," I inform her. She gives me a cold shoulder when my leg brushes against her skirt as I continue my trip upwards. James takes longer to get around her without touching, which is next to impossible on the narrow stairway. When he reaches me, I've already caused enough mayhem for the bedroom doors to fly open.

I practically have to drag James along as we enter each room to bid the ladies a good morning, and inform them to meet us immediately in the hall. Their reactions to our intrusion vary. Some, like Joanna, hide under the bedcovers. Louise is the first to open the door. She laughs and promises retaliation. She has the loveliest eyes, blue as cornflowers, and straw blond hair to soften her long, slightly heavy face. Her entire appearance is fresh, reminding me of a country. Why does James get all the pretty ones? That's right, it was my idea.

I drag my eyes away in favour of checking my pocket watch. I've given these women long enough to get their lacy, rumpled curls and ruffles out of beds, which most of them have succeeded in doing.

James stands modestly in the center of the room. He cannot be the harbinger of bad news; it's my job to gather the ire and suffer all pointy feminine objects jibed into my physical and psychological being. His only job is to look handsome.

"Ladies," I announce loudly enough to get through the dream remaining fog and panic that currently clouds their minds. "I've gathered you here to explain a few rules of staying in this mansion, and our plans for this week. First and foremost, the Admiral will not be residing with you. He still has duties which he insists on performing, and he will return to his home every evening. Thus, you shouldn't expect visits after ten due to his personal courtesy, although, he may visit this mansion whenever he likes."

I make a pause to check whether this information is sinking in properly, and feel disapproval gathering around the room like a grey cloud. I get unexpected help from Louise.

"Shame," she announces loudly, "and I've been looking forward to dazzling our bachelor with my outstanding breakfasts every morning!" Everyone laughs because a few years ago she caused a minor fire at home by trying to cook breakfast.

I wish James would reply humorously to her, but his sarcasm evaporates faster than water in the sun whenever he is thrown into a large company of young ladies. He treacherously stays silent as a stump and lets me do all the talking. I clear my throat and continue.

"Since you will not have the chance, yet, to interact with him every morning, it will be important for you to speak with him during one of the three dates, which yours truly have planned this week. However, not all of you will go on a date. There will be two group dates, and one date with only James and one of you. The last date will have five women, but their names will have to remain a secret until Friday. The one on one date will be decided by today's first group date. Everyone may attend the first date, providing you are fast enough to make yourself presentable. There are four carriages waiting for you downstairs. They are scheduled to leave half past six. Whoever is not in the carriage by then will be left behind. You will have no way of knowing whether you will have another opportunity to speak with the Admiral this week."

The women stare and me in bewilderment as I offer them my most pleasant smile. "You have twenty minutes remaining to get ready."

They nearly get stuck in the door as the mad rush to get dressed commences.

I am all too pleased with the mayhem I've created until James ruins my fun. "You do realise that, today, you must return the bell to whichever ship you've deprived it of and polish it until it blinds the seagulls with its shine."

I pull a dramatic face because this means I will not accompany James on the first group date. "Aye, aye, Sir."

Carmen:

I am the first to make it into the corridor where I nimbly dodge around Heather who is just coming out of her room to find out what's going on with Rhea close behind me. This woman never rushes, yet always manages to get ahead of everyone. Quickly and efficiently we help each other lace our corsets before others select their outfits. Rhea stays behind to help our roommates, but I won't risk being late because of some slowpokes. I nearly skip over the stairs as I hurry out onto the fresh, morning air.

Too bad I'm not the first to come outside. Yulia is already waiting in the first carriage. I run to the second carriage, deciding that any other companion will be more fun because she always has a disapproving look on her face as if the world offends her with impurity.

I speculate who will be late, while looking around curiously. Last night we didn't get a chance to examine the mansion externally. It is a lovely building built in a European style in cream stone, but I would love to get moving. Life is too short to spend on waiting. I'm excited because I have no clue where we're going. It's a wonderful idea to take us on a surprise date. It might have been better yet if we have gotten to see a sunrise.

Brenda:

This mayhem is unacceptable to a woman of reasonable standards. I head for my room behind all others, suppressing a natural inclination to panic because it is next to impossible to present myself properly in such an unreasonable timing. I must have at least two hours. When I've agreed to this experiment, I've never considered waking up so early, and I've hoped for a luxurious living arrangement. It's a shame that not only must I share a room with four other women, but there are no maids to assist me. No matter, I quickly choose a replacement among whatever I'm given. Nessa is a sweet girl of an unremarkable appearance. She has just the right deferring temperament that servants must have. She cannot make a step without looking for permission from someone to do so. Even now.

"My dear, you simply must wear your green dress. It sets out your loveliest green eyes," I exclaim when she pauses uncertainly before her wardrobe. "Green is a perfect colour for any uncertain occasion. It is muted, yet elegant."

I point to a dress that must be one of her favourites because it looks gaudy green and has the puffy lace that went out of fashion four seasons ago, but she seems to think it's perfect. "Oh, how jealous I am that you can pull off wearing it. I'm afraid I'm too pale for the green to be my colour!"

Her eyes fill with gratitude at an unexpected guidance when I take the dress and hold it to her. "Thank you!" she exclaims with sincerest passion. "But, my lady, you are surely the most beautiful woman here. You have the most elegant wardrobe! Last night your blue dress was stunning like a summer sky."

I smile, accepting the compliment graciously. People need to state the obvious more often. "You are most clever. I'll wear blue as you suggest."

She smiles, already pleased to be of assistance to me. Her eyes fill with tears same as mine in compassion as I try my best to look devastated. "But, this dress has such complicated lacing. Should I try to wear it, I will be dreadfully late! The Admiral will think poorly of me for it."

"Surely, no one can think poorly of you!"

"Oh, you're too kind, but I won't make it."

"You won't be late! I will gladly help you!" she offers all too eagerly.

"I couldn't possibly abuse your compassion," I claim as she shakes her head firmly to stop my protest, as expected. I offer my dress for her instantly to fall into assisting role. She is good at following the subtlest commands and makes a good job of getting me ready.

While she fusses over me, I take in her perfect skin and a rose blush colouring her cheeks so tenderly. She will beautify and glow, given the attention of a right man, and perhaps a new dress. She may be overlooked initially in a crowd of many beautiful women, but this average, spineless type could be to the Admiral's liking. I've better make sure that he never notices her.

An ebony cross on her breast catches my attention. She is a well raised goody two shoe who wouldn't dream of setting a foot outside her home without the proper blessings.

When it's almost time to go, I push her hands away gently to remind her that she too must get dressed. Nessa sees no end to my kindness as I gather her hair and ask her to hold them up while I adjust her collar. With her occupied and jostled I open the lock and slip the chain off her neck. I throw the cross into her bedcovers.

"There, we're all ready, and not a moment too soon!" I announce, putting the last pin into place, and spinning her around. I drop her hand, and head for the door like I fully expect her to follow closely behind me. "Oh, please let's hurry, and God bless our day!"

I know that her hand flies to her breast to touch the cross in confirmation of my good wishes, but she does not find it there. She will have one miserable afternoon looking for it.

Filled with ethereal grace, I glide to the carriages, where most of the women have gathered. The coachmen command the horses to move as soon as I sit down. "Oh, what about Nessa?" I exclaim, loudly enough for everyone to hear. "She was right behind me! It is simply too cruel to leave her!" My words only gather compassion from Lucia who is the only one to look back, but I only protest because I'm confident that the coachmen have been instructed to leave not one minute too late. No one will wait for the three women who have fallen behind.


	5. The Second Admiral

Joanna:

I am starting to notice again that the world is filled with beauty. There is only one fear that gnaws at my heart and chases the sleep away - I may not be able to love again. Jonathan was the love of my life. I couldn't feel and I couldn't see when God torn him away from me. But when our carriage flies out onto the open cliff, overhanging the sea lit by the milliards of sunrays, my heart cannot hide in darkness. The platform is set with the long tables decorated by flowers, gold encrusted plates and goblets with the drinks and delicacies temptingly arranged.

The Admiral is waiting for us. His presence causes an agitated stir. Women make final attempts at arranging their ruffled curls into place and smoothing out beyond the redeemable dresses. Next to us, it appears that the road has made no negative impression on his attire. I spot a black stallion nearby. The Admiral must have gotten here ahead of us by riding that magnificent animal.

He helps each of us out. I am the last one to leave the carriage. He doesn't release me as soon as my feet touch the ground. I am grateful because the last segment of the road, leading to the sea side, cannot be called a carriage path. I've gotten ill from violently flying up into the air as the wheels hit each boulder, and then falling into countless pits. I've observed his interaction with the other women. The Admiral does not say much, but he is most attentive. A woman knows he is paying attention to her every need, most delicately holding her hand and opening the doors, and then stepping back as the propriety dictates. I instantly forget the small resentment I've harboured for disturbing us so early in the morning as soon as he invites us to the breakfast table. It's going to be a lovely day.

Amanpreet:

Disaster prevented. As in this is the most brilliant idea I've ever had. Before heading for the carriage, I've swept all my finery into a hand bag. I take up one of the tables and upend my priceless treasures onto it. I have my wonderful tortoise shell hair comb and powder box given to me by my admirer Captain Williams. How pitiful is it that he turned out to be so stingy after I've let him into my good graces. He hadn't given me another present in three weeks of our acquaintance. I had to leave him sadly. He was still better than Colonel Bray who was very generous, but his downfall was leaving me for some younger tweet. Such inconsistency in lovers, which leaves him in the clutches of his old wife, is hardly commendable. These men are destined to fail in love. They matter not; I have a finer man to impress. They will bite their elbows and be sorry for losing me.

The other women give me unpleasant looks and mutter something about the food on the table. I certainly ignore them. They're just jealous that I have the finery to make myself beautiful. The Admiral always looks perfect. He won't be impressed by anyone who looks terrible.

I have proof that I'm the best when obviously attracted to my unworldly beauty, the Admiral sits down beside me and asks what I'm doing. I'm very pleased to explain this female perspective to him. I don't know why he laughs when I'm being very serious. It must be because he likes me. Too bad Louisa interrupts his admiration of me. This woman takes up too much space and attention.

Ramona:

I admit I envy Louisa and Carmen. In the social setting they feel like the fish in the water, constantly drawing attention with free laugher and bold remarks. I do not have such ability to express my feelings so frivolously. In some way, I do look down on them because they lack tact. Our group date would end in a fight if everyone was as aggressive as they are at drawing Mr Norrington into discussion with them.

Left unchallenged, their behaviour concerns me. I'm worried that Mr Norrington will forget me. I may have received the first impression rose, but it will become meaningless unless we speak more to strengthen that connection. My personality is best revealed in private conversations. I may not have the chance to speak with him about any meaningful subject, drowned out by the chipper, meaningless chatter. I don't know whether to envy or feel sorry for some of these women who have never had a single complicated thought in their life.

As the morning heats up, so does the interaction. The Admiral is growing uncomfortable because too many women are touching, flirting and getting too personal. He is uncertain how to react to their lack of modesty. Strangely enough, Carmen makes a reasonable proposition after she asks one of the men who oversee that our picnic is not disturbed whether he can bring us the necessary items. She challenges Louisa to a game of nine pins. The team that loses will have to sit out one hour, and none of them will be allowed to approach the Admiral. I can see the advantage, considering that there will be twice fewer women plaguing him. I rise to play reluctantly as we are split into two groups. I am not good at these sorts of activities. I will surely not be presented in favourable light by participating. I go along with the plan to maintain peace. However, soon I learn that peace is difficult to come by.

Heather:

I can hardly call this game a friendly match. All women, especially the ones claiming to be the epitome of morality and fairness, are never missing a chance to hurl handfuls of dirt at each other whenever they can get away with it. Neither team wants to lose, thus the nails are sunk into the wrists whenever one lovely girl with a dazzling smile passes the ball to her competitor who in retaliation with an even brighter smile helpfully warns her opponent that her skirt hitches up inappropriately whenever she is picking up the ball from the ground.

Truly, all these women are low class, insufferable cheaters who have no mind nor manners to learn the proper etiquette of playing the game. I try to play my party gracefully whenever it is my turn, with a bad feeling that our team will lose because we have armless nuisances Yulia and Ramona. I would normally let them wallow in their pitiful failure had the Admiral not taken a great interest in our game. I suppose he is a competitive man, interested in watching anything that requires both skill and great luck. I have no choice except smile prettily and with a feigned patience keep giving them good advice, none of which makes them any better. I am doing my best to discourage the other team. I wish Louisa acted smarter than Carmen who chose her team members by their playing skills rather than by her sympathies.

Tracy:

For Heavens sake, daughter, talk less when you meet the Admiral. It is better to keep silent and let the other wonder about your lack of intelligence than for you to open your mouth and banish all doubt. Else, he is as likely to choose you as the mangos will start growing in England.

My mother is too mean, though she says she is realistic. I know that mangos grow in England. I'm not that stupid. I think the Admiral finds me comely and agreeable enough. At least I'm not mean like Heather. She looks very elegant at playing nine pins. In secret she tells me that she is so good at knocking them down as well as looking sophisticated because she takes the wind into consideration. She shows the heavy, wooden ball to me and explains that the wind carries it sideways. When it is my turn to knock down the pins, I need to roll it against the wind and forcefully. I do so, and the ball misses the pins and falls off a cliff! One of the soldiers gives me a bad face. I don't think he wants to go and get it. I suspect Heather hadn't been trying to help me after all. I wish I've asked the Admiral for advice instead like Joanna does. He wraps his arm around her waist, showing her how to stand properly to knock down the pins. I don't think his advice is very effective because she completely misses the pins as soon as he steps away from her. Heather smiles nastily when it happens.

She must be bitter because her team is losing. I'm glad that I didn't get picked for her team after all. At first I didn't want to be on Carmen's team because she picked Olivia. Socialising with Olivia casts shadow on any girl's reputation. We know she is no longer a virgin. Her fiancée took what he wanted from her, if you know what I mean, and left her. I'd die of shame should I ever be involved in such an awful scandal. I guess Carmen can use her for the game. The ball rolled by Olivia strikes down all pins, and the other team moans. They've lost by a long margin.

Lucia:

As the morning turns into late afternoon, we abandon the magnificent breakfast spot and move into the shade. Our team has lost, thus I am sitting out and sadly away from the cheerful circle. We must keep our word and not bother the Admiral unless he approaches us first. Some women try to see him regardless. I find I cannot break my word, silly as it is. I sit alone in a quiet spot as lonely as the black stallion. I feel sorry that he is tied to a tree all alone.

I go back to the breakfast table and choose a few apples to treat him. Unlike in England they are not common in these parts. As I approach, his head rises proudly and his ears flicker in minor annoyance at the interruption of his peaceful napping. He is an intelligent horse trained to accept only certain riders. He will not allow everyone to reach his side.

"Hello. What is your name?" I speak gently to let him know that I mean no harm.

"His name is Admiral."

I spin around quickly, nearly dropping the apples and thinking much out of place that the horse won't like them off the ground. The one responsible for giving me an awful fright doesn't look very repentant.

"My friends have meant it as a joke when they've gifted him to me."

"He is beautiful," I say. I feel much calmer seeing that Norrington is holding a couple of apples as well. I'm glad that we thought the same.

"Thank you for taking care of him."

"I love animals," I say. When I've seen him late in the evening and at a distance I thought he was older. His clothing style adds years to him. Here, with a bright sunlight shining onto his face, I can see that he is barely thirty. "You have the same eye colour as my cat," I blurt out. I can slap myself for being so silly and try to amend; only making it worse. "I mean it as a compliment. My cat is wonderful. I like him very much."

"Thank you." This must be the most awkward compliment he had ever received. Neither of us is comfortable with it. "What is his name?" he asks.

"Snow."

"That is an unusual name to hear at the Caribbean."

"I'm a little bit nostalgic. I've always loved snow, not the cold though or when the roads are too slippery. Yet, it's beautiful. I've always waited for snow on Christmas. Otherwise, I prefer summers. I like the heat more than the cold."

As I say this, I hear swift footfalls, and Carmen pounces on me. She is like a whirlwind that sweeps the apples out of my hands and feeds them to the stallion. I am wistful at how easily everything comes to her. Even the horse likes her at once. She informs us that she is excellent at riding horses. I feel anxious that she will get the permission to ride, and they will leave together, but we are interrupted by an indignant chorus of voices.

I am a little sad that Commander Groves joins us surrounded by protesting women. I know immediately that he comes to end our date. When both Admirals leave us, to compensate our loss Mr Groves presents us with a sealed envelope. The poor parchment is nearly torn to bits as we realise that this is the date invitation.

A brief note inside reads,

_Let our hearts find what we seek in the place of God, Yulia._


	6. Missed Opportunities

Hi everyone, thank you for reading and patiently waiting for the updates. The writing inspiration has been about as elusive as the _Black Pearl_ lately, but I try.

* * *

><p><strong>Missed Opportunities<strong>

Nessa:

After sharing the morning tea with Olivia and Joanna, I slip away into the garden quietly. It isn't that I do not value their company. It is my heart that clenches too painfully whenever the others discuss yesterday's date, whereas I have nothing to remember. Brenda has been so kind as to tell me about the wonderful picnic. She spoke so well that I've almost felt like I've been there with everyone. I'm very glad that she hadn't been left behind because I've been so foolish as to misplace my cross. I'm sure she's a kind soul who would have stayed to help had she noticed my delay. This way, I'm the only one to pay for my mistake. Mr Norrington must think me very rude for ignoring his invitation. I would give up everything dearly to explain my absence.

God is truly forgiving. As soon as I make my wish, I encounter the one person I want to see, turning onto the path that leads towards the mansion. I nearly stumble back to hide behind the heliconia bush. It is not from him that I feel like hiding, but from something in me that both shies away and begs to be noticed.

He greets me mildly as soon as our eyes meet, and I have nowhere to run. "It's a pleasant morning," I manage to get the words out into the awkward space between us.

"The day will be hot, I believe," he says. The sun is in my eyes when I look up at him, and he lightly steps around me, changing our positions. "I do trust my stallion's judgement. On the way here he behaved like a ship that refuses to move without a trace of wind."

"It is hot," I agree quickly, which may seem foolish because there is a transparent shawl covering my shoulders. The shaded garden where sunrays haven't reached the ground yet is cooler than the road leading to the mansion.

"I want to apologise for my tardiness yesterday," I say. I want to add more, but it means I will bother him with the pointless complaints. I fumble with the shawl, lost for words.

"You mustn't feel that you owe me an explanation," he assures me. "I am the one who must apologise for disturbing you so early, although I'm sorry to say I can make no guarantees in the future to my fiancée. My job will frequently call me away any time, during the day and night."

"You haven't troubled me at all. I like mornings."

"As lovely as they are, I enjoy evenings more, at least when I feel that the day hadn't been wasted."

"You're right. Some evenings are relaxing," I say.

He shifts a long box wrapped with a lovely red ribbon to free his right arm. "Have you been on your way to the mansion when we've met?" he asks.

I nod even if I haven't planned on returning yet. This is the first time he came to visit us. I want to know why. I would have agreed regardless because his hint in clear that he is anxious to end our conversation. I place my hand onto his arm as he offers to escort me.

Thelma:

I am about to finish my porridge when I hear an excited shriek loud enough to send the content of my bowl swirling. This house is a live entity like an algae filled reef, which grows in the shallow waters, sheltering all sorts of fish. Graceful manners forgotten, I can hear swift tapping of the feet, and rise to follow the agitated swirl, leaving my breakfast, which I've talked myself into eating to replenish my strength. I've missed the date because I've been unwell.

I cannot withhold a smile as I enter the room. I already had a good idea who can cause such a wave of excitement. The Admiral is surrounded once more. These women resemble small children who welcome a parent home while hoping for a treat. I feel he brought one. Just like children their mood rapidly changes from one to another when turns out that he only has a gift for one of them. Norrington explains that he felt a connection with Carmen during the date, and asks her whether she will accept a gift from him that will encourage them to get to know each other better.

She accepts the golden coloured box wrapped with a scarlet ribbon. Inside, there is a rose, cased in velvet and worth a thousand envious glares, all of them lost on Carmen who bestows a hug on the gift giver. Norrington explains that Theodore Groves came up with an idea to give one rose after each group date. Carmen is pleased to be the first one to have it. She asks Joanna to wrap the scarlet ribbon around her wrist, behaving like she's been given a sun, but all her flirting does not keep him near her all the time. The Admiral isn't a man who will be distracted easily when he sets his mind onto something. She isn't the only one he came to see.

I know to approach when purposefully he casts a quick look around the room and stops on me. He leads me into the next room to speak privately. He inquires after my well being. I wonder how he knew that I'm ill. I have a good intuition when it comes to people. He is not asking to be polite. He genuinely cares.

I explain that I feel much better due to Nessa's help. I tell him on her behalf why she was late to the carriage. She was glad that at least she could help me if her day wasn't meant to be spent in his company. I feel she may not explain well when she speaks with him again. She is too shy. She is a sweet girl who reminds me of my younger sister Karen, always looking for approval and encouragement. Nessa seeks my instruction, although I am younger than she is. James thanks me genuinely for telling him. I feel that he has trouble speaking with her. I worry; he may send her home due to a misunderstanding.

Our conversation is easy. I am sorry it is too short. Before leaving James asks about Jade. He intended to speak with each woman who missed the date individually. I tell him that she is still asleep. I cannot say that I feel too sorry for her that he must return to work. My intuition tells me that she is my competitor.

Jade:

Today, I've dreamt about Jeffrey. He didn't speak or move - he simply looked at me quietly. I felt like he was saying too much with his silence. The dream left me with a guilty feeling and resentment that he can make me feel such. I have nothing to be ashamed of. We haven't seen each other in two years. One would assume I should have forgotten him by now.

Groggily, I make it to the empty dining room. It is a lovely place with the large, widely open windows and always stark white tablecloth. Other women are no longer here. I usually wake up too late to see any of them. I can sleep through the end of the world should it come early in the morning. Unfortunately, I've also slept through the date.

I drink my tea and take small bites out of various jam sandwiches. I enjoy nipping at bits and pieces rather than eating one thing whole. I'm impressed by the servers who bring and take away the dishes unseen and variety of cooking to satisfy all tastes. We have more than one choice, even for the main course at dinner. This mansion is luxurious, aside from having to share rooms with two other women. I suspect it is done to test our social graces. Only spoiled women like Amanpreet find fault in everything.

I hear her high-pitched voice across the mansion as I finish my tea and walk to join the gossiping circle. The picture before me explains her whining as Amanpreet sits in the armchair with a perfectly straight back and nails sunk deeply into the armrests, and Carmen up on her feet in front of her in a swirl of red dress. Carmen is holding a rose. It is becoming a ritual to confront with their multiple faults anyone who is lucky to receive this token of interest from the bachelor, but Carmen will never succumb to playing the victim, which Amanpreet is quickly learning.

"As natural as it is for a man to pursue a woman, men enjoy the attention bestowed on them. I intend to demonstrate to the Admiral that I am attracted. Any attention he is willing to give me is welcome," Carmen declares. "You chose to sit there, blinking your pretty, glass eyes like a doll, waiting for everything to come to you without any effort, and then didn't get a rose, and that's your problem. Keep behaving the way you do and you will never be chosen."

I do care little for their fight at present, more concerned that I've missed the Admiral once more. I must receive an invitation to the last group date or I will be going home. Yulia's date tomorrow increases my chances of staying. Some women feel that one on one date nearly guarantees staying through the next week. Attraction or not, it is awfully unkind to spend a day with a woman only to inform her that she isn't good enough. I'm not so sure, because a woman can indicate that she is not interested; then it would be senseless to keep her. Not in her opinion, of course, Yulia is doing everything to scare a man away. Norrington must have kept her because he hadn't been able to grasp what kind of person she is. He will soon. Once she leaves, she will not enter this mansion again.

Yulia:

Waiting for my date is extremely disconcerting as is being the center of attention. I'm happier when the other women avoid me the same way the sinners avoid the church. I see it as an indication of their wickedness that tries to cease me, mistakenly assuming that it has found a way to lead me into temptation. They share, as they claim out of the goodness of their heart, ideas how to seduce the Admiral. I am no snake to be seducing anyone. I'll leave it to them. I don't need to embellish myself in finery or wear a better dress. The true beauty is in my heart and soul. Norrington wouldn't be a fine man if he looked only at the material.

Louisa tells me that looking for the beauty of the heart is easier when the surface doesn't scare you away. Shameless wench! I'm about to remind her that Jesus drank out of a plain cup when we're interrupted by Norrington's arrival.

I'm very glad he came without his awful friend whose name I keep forgetting. Leopold Groves, I think. I can tell merely by how he looks at women that there is nothing except wickedness on his mind! I would advise against an acquaintance with him. It seems that some of it has already passed onto the Admiral because he kisses my hand.

I am subjected to the devilish temptation to smile at him. I give him my coldest glare instead, and tell him that he is out of line. He is properly chastised and keeps a respectful distance from me from then on.

I ask where we are going. He tells me that I will soon find out. I certainly can wait. I'm very patient. I am rewarded when we stop by the church. I know this place well, I come here daily, but I've never went past the side door into the priest wing where he leads me. There are doors leading to beds and praying chambers down the corridor. I look around reverently. Cool and covered in veil of semi-darkness corridor emanates peace.

Norrington tells me that this is the oldest building in Port Royal. It has been erected by Nicholas Stone who wanted to ease his beloved wife's passing into the afterlife by praying for her soul at a holy place.

I tell the Admiral that Stone was an awful sinner who had traded his wife for the love of a savage native. He probably wanted to avoid divine wrath by erecting the church. Such bribes do not work. I'm sure he is still paying for his sins. I have a strange feeling that my date wanted to discuss something else. I think he meant to say that we all should be more forgiving. I propose we pray for those who have committed sins to be forgiven.

Norrington manages it quite well for an hour and then says that we should go. I rise to my feet reluctantly. My back and my knees hurt pleasantly from kneeling on the stone floor. I usually spend two or three hours a day in prayer, I tell him. My knees are rough as a testament to how much I love God. I hope he takes my word for it. I cannot show my knees to a man because it's awfully improper. I ask Norrington how often he prays. He avoids the question and directs us towards the shore.

The conversation with him is not difficult. He is an educated man. Slowly, we leave the spiritual theme and come down to the mortal world. I warn him about the two faced snakes in the house, such as Amanpreet. That woman only pretends to be modest. The vanity itself is imprinted in her soul that's tainted by the desire for the material possessions and the corruption of the worldly things. I tell him about other women who have no sense of decorum.

He thanks me. I feel that he is growing distant with each passing moment. He still responds appropriately to my remarks, but with a distinct lack of interest. When I ask what he is thinking about, he says work. It's admirable when others think about work. I wouldn't choose a slacker for a husband. Although, as the date comes to and end, it seems that this man is not meant to be my life companion either.

The Admiral doesn't offer a rose to me. He tells me that my connection with God is too strong for him to disturb. As true as it is that God will always be first in my heart, it doesn't mean I have no place in it for a man. I think it is his mistake to let me go while keeping far less deserving women. This must be Leopold's ill influence. I must find him and rinse him with holy water before the devil takes his soul. It's a shame that an otherwise good man like Norrington is corrupted by foul temptations of flesh and vanity. I was prepared to save his eternal soul from damnation.


	7. Debt in a Seashell

James:

"She ruined my wig."

Theodore Groves vexed by a woman is not a frequent sight to behold. Granted, most of them get a positive impression upon meeting him. He has an intuitive understanding how to behave, bringing out either the serious or humorous side of his personality to be well accepted by women of various temperaments. However, there are exceptions, his charm being all lost on Yulia.

"Complaining - is this any way to thank a woman for trying to save your immortal soul?" I ask. As much as I want to commiserate, everyone who witnessed the event think it amusing.

Theodore makes an exaggeratingly sour face, his natural sense of humour is already trumpeting over the indignation. "I don't see how turning my wig green is going to save my immortal soul. She chased me down the road with a bucketful of liquid, which turns everything green at the contact, shouting, 'Thou Who hast rebuked all unclean spirits and by the power of Thy Word has banished the legion, come now, through Thine only begotten Son upon this creature, which Thou hast fashioned in Thine own image and deliver him from the adversary that holds him in bondage, so that, receiving Thy mercy and becoming purified, he might join the ranks of Thy holy flock.'"

"It is Holy Water according to her."

Theodore huffs critically and runs an irritable hand over his head, feeling exposed. He shaved his hair off only two days ago. "Some sympathy would be nice, especially since I've suffered because of you."

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

Theodore spares me a half-hearted glare for the Biblical reference. "Explain this to me - you reject a woman, and she blames me for it when common sense dictates that she should have directed the exorcism at you. That sprinkling was even less fun than playing dead at the Fountain of Youth."

Theodore shared with me the details of his last expedition. His reluctance to confide even to a friend is understandable because the adventure involved mermaids and magic. I confess, I would not have believed him had he told me this story two years ago.

At the Fountain of Youth, he suffered a firearm wound that nearly killed him. Alive, but badly hurt, he feigned death as the fighting broke out, lacking strength to crawl out of the way unnoticed. The water from the damaged Fountain began to rise, advancing up his cheek and eventually covering him entirely. Theodore held his breath. When the last shred of air was gone, he made a desperate attempt to escape death. And succeeded. There was no pain as he regained his footing, springing up to his waist in the water. The wound had closed.

Everyone was too busy saving their skin to pay attention as he borrowed a coat and weapons from a dead pirate. Posing as a scoundrel was safer than being an honest man. He blended in with an escaping group, and then left their company at the nearest port. No one noticed his coming and going. Two weeks later, he was hired as a sailor onto a boat that held course to Port Royal. It was a good day when Groves showed up at my office, seeking to reinstate his position within the Navy. I needed his help and friendship, which was about to be tested once more with Lieutenant Gillette nearly at a run coming up the terrace steps and a deep intake of breath once he reached us.

"Phillip, what brings you here?"

Theodore makes no inviting sign to join us. Gillette is no good at concealing his feelings. Judging by his look, the news is not worth sitting down for, though perhaps a drink is in order.

"It's HMS _Victory_," he informs us, once he's sure he has my undivided attention. "Something eerie is happening below the deck. Midshipman Black was the first who spotted the problem. Initially, I thought it was one of his crackpot tales that seashells are invading the ship. Just last month he claimed he saw the port's founder playing cards with a ghost dog on the church steps. I believe it is the rum fairy that has him seeing things. Normally, that is, but not this time."

"Lieutenant," I interrupt impatiently.

The endless stream of babbling ceases in favour of a quick conclusion, "I've set the watch, so no one else ventures below, and set out to find you immediately."

The _Victory_ attracts trouble far too often, I consider, putting aside a drink and abandoning a perfectly comfortable seat in exchange for investigating the mysterious seashells, which apparently are taking over my ship.

Gillette drops his voice as I rise and pick up my hat. "There is that uncanny, magical feel," he tells us, "similar to what we've encountered at Isle de Muerta."

Groves:

Exaggeration could be Phillip's middle name, but his confusing report proves to be fairly accurate when we reach the hatch that looks no more or less like a black, impenetrable square cut out in the deck. I cannot see the bottom of the stairs that should be visible during the day. The two sailors left to guard the hatch fumble with their weapons, ill at ease. The Admiral tells them a few encouraging words, ordering them to maintain their station, and then leads the way down. The light shining through the entrance is quickly lost as we descend.

Below the deck, the ship is no longer recognisable as one belonging to the Navy. The air is damp. Shimmering dully like darkened silver, the water droplets are sliding down the bulks. There are swift shadows crossing the floor that scatter with low hisses as we step onto the treacherous floor. Phillip carries the lantern past the walls, which are covered in black and brow layer of seashells, glittering in yellow light. Instinctively, we group together, watching each others backs. The weight of the sword on my hip is a cold comfort. I won't be able to draw it in a twisted, crammed space.

"I hope this is not another skeleton ploy," Phillip mutters. "Last time they've shot my hat, this time they may shoot my head." He bumps his shin on a box and adds in a low undertone, "unless I break my neck first."

James leads us deeper to investigate. Wet, utterly slimy seaweed entangles my foot like a snare, and I shudder in revulsion. As I stop to shake it off, darkness falls around us. Phillip utters a curt oath, fumbling in the darkness to relight the lantern. There is a spark. Briefly, James' figure ahead is illumined, and then the door set between two compartments slams shut, separating us.

"Admiral!" I call loudly, but my voice is muffled by the walls. The hull feels like we're trapped inside a giant seashell, which has clammed shut.

Phillip twists the handle. His effort makes not the slightest impression on getting us to the other side.

"Move," I order. There is little room. Phillip presses his back against the slimy wall, letting me charge past and ram my shoulder into the door. Loud ringing in my head makes me regret doing so. The thin door made for separating two sections rather than for keeping men out became hard as a rock. I may have been more successful moving a mountain.

"Shhhh!" Phillip hisses, pressing his ear against the door.

I follow his suit. It is difficult to interpret the speakers' feelings because the door muffles the intonations too much, but James' voice is distinguishable.

"You've planned this," he accuses an invisible to us adversary.

"Do not mistake my foresight for your human ability to plan for the future," we hear a woman speak. Her accented voice, rising from her chest rather than her throat, resembles a whispering tide, soft yet merciless; a tide that may carry far away from the shore unaware souls. "I've felt that our paths will cross one day. Thus, I've given you another chance at life for this purpose."

"You need not threaten me. I'm not some cozener pirate to refuse paying my debts."

Phillip doesn't fully understand the implication, but I have a good hunch who the speaker may be. It was a part of our agreement. I've told James about the Fountain of Youth, and in exchange he told me what happened to him on the _Flying Dutchman_. His death was no easy recollection. Memories of the past are like seashells. You never know what you may find inside once you unlock them. James had been resurrected by the sea Goddess on his promise to do her great service one day. She must have come to collect the debt.

"It is no coincidence that your first thought comes to pirates," I hear her say. "There is one who needs to be found."

It is no difficult guess whom she speaks of. The weariness sips through the door like an oil. There is only one man James holds in such contempt.

"What has he done this time?" he asks.

"You need not know what, you need to know where. He is on land where my power does not extend. You must find him and bring him to me."

Indignation builds up inside me. This is the fools errand. Why must James embark on this mission as soon as he gets an opportunity to find happiness? There is no predicting how long it will take merely to find Jack Sparrow, and then even longer to capture him.

"Caribbean is no small puddle. It doesn't lack hiding places," James states. "I assume you have clues that will shorten our search."

I silently cheer that he treats her like an equal. For all the power she holds, this woman needs us, although her opinion differs. She takes delight speaking in riddles to let us foolish mortals know how ignorant we are.

"Sometimes, what you seek may be closer than you believe if only you will open your eyes to see it," she says.

The only thing up close under my nose is the door, I muse glumly, inwardly uttering sceptical insults at the prophecy tellers for their always ill timing and ambiguity. I have not the foggiest what she refers to, but at least the Admiral does.

"Port Royal!" he exclaims.

The door we're leaning on falls open and we pitch forward. The luckless lantern clatters against the floor. There is no sign of the intruder as we light it once more.

"We've heard everything," I inform the Admiral.

There is a low hum around us, coming from the seashells getting sucked into the walls. The crabs sprint away, escaping through narrow cracks and holes. Within a minute the hull looks no different than prior to this short invasion, but our lives cannot return to normal this easily.

James makes no attempt to hide the urgency. "We must organise the search immediately," he claims. "It cannot be widespread; otherwise the pirate may get suspicious and leave Port Royal."

I know what James is thinking. The worst exaggeration is too mild to describe the problems Jack Sparrow is capable of creating in town.

"No," I say quietly, prepared to overcome James when the worst stubbornness ceases him. I tap Phillip's shoulder to show that he will take my side. "We will organise the search. You will attend the ball as we have planned."


	8. Ball and Gossip

No wai! Yes wai! I'm updating! XD Hi everyone, I'm back. I'm sorry it's been so long since I've updated the story. However, I haven't forgotten about it. Thank you for bearing with a long gap between chapters! I hope new chapters will bring you laughs and a good mood. =)

A larger version of the poster of our drool-worthy bachelor is found on my profile.

* * *

><p><strong>Ball and Gossip<strong>

Heather:

I suppose the event meets my reasonably paramount expectations. Lavish decorations, service and entertainment are acceptably inferior to the balls at my family mansion. The Admiral is a reasonable man in issuing a ball invitation to me rather than to some general riffraff, he has yet to sort out, currently invading the mutually occupied mansion.

What I do deem rude is to be abandoned after half an hour of pleasant conversation in favour of dancing with Jade. I plant affable smile on my face however inwardly seething, pacified only by knowledge that a notable woman like me will not be left unattended too long. Just as the thought crosses my mind, Mr Obrien, wearing a spotty hat to win the worst hat of the Caribbean title, invites me to dance. Sadly, that's the only title he owns. I decline without as much as turning my head. Aside from dark blue eyes and muscular body he has nothing substantial to offer. He demonstrates such impudence, asking a woman of my status to waste my charm on him, especially with the Admiral present. I cannot flaunt inconsistent preferences, unless Mr Norrington's jealousy is to be tested, which I am too smart to attempt so early in competition.

Olivia and Jade are here as well. I prefer to be stuck in the same room with two sea slugs. Jade's beauty is enhanced by her expensive jewellery that mysteriously shimmers in the lamp light. I cannot be lost in that glow. I will compeat. The ball brings out my best qualities. As for our extra companion, I dread someone will find out that we've arrived in the same carriage. Luckily, Olivia is thrown by attendees' silent disapproval into a corner of the room where she bothers almost no one. I must warn the Admiral about her. This ball is a death trap enough.

It is not my jealousy. All eligible women, armed with undisputable proof that Mr Norrington is looking for a wife, are sizing him up like stray dogs unattended roast beef. Can they not fathom a simple fact that they weren't worthy to be among twenty five? They lurk in respectable proximity, batting eyelashes in a manner they deem seductive whenever his gaze accidentally lands on them. To remove them from view, I've paid a server boy to spread a short rumour that the Admiral is alone in the stables outside the mansion when he stepped outside to speak with Mr Groves. As expected, most of the mindless tweets and their mothers, who did not wish to be left behind their neighbours, rushed to the barn, full of outlandish hopes. My patience was tested until the boy appeared and signalled that he locked them inside. Let them flirt with the spiders. They should have focused their efforts on numerous eligible bachelors in attendance. Jade told me earlier that this ball is purposely arranged to introduce young ladies to young men. Well, the plan didn't work, aside from gathering far too woman in one place at once. I never knew so many lived in Port Royal until they all began to pine for one man. There must be hundreds of them!

* * *

><p><span>J<span>ade:

I fear modern society operates on a tribal principle where expectations of average foolishness and shamelessness are greatly exceeded in order to obtain the shiniest trophy the tribe can lay hands on or in this case the finest man. I must be the only woman in the room who maintains a shred of decency. The decorum line has been long crossed, accosted by ridiculousness when one man became an all wanted valuable. Granted, the upheaval is exactly what the town needed. Yet, there's no fairness in Mr Norrington being sacrificed so, for which I am truly sorry. I believe this is not an attempt to gain fame. He truly wants to find love. The proof is reflected in his firm choice to invite only three women to the ball instead of five as initially planned in order to dedicate more attention to each one, in contrast with the overwhelming first group date. His impression of our personalities cannot be other than scattered. I'm puzzled how he can remember anything about each one of us. I wouldn't be surprised should he with all due seriousness keep a set of written notes.

He is an attentive partner who owns undeniable charm and elegance even in the uncertain movements across the dance floor and he's quick to pick up the steps or perhaps recall them. Social occasions must have been part of his education, much neglected later on in life as he built his career at sea. Our conversation lacks frivolous flight, but I find well thought out approach to all subjects intriguing. He is an intelligent man who obtains respect naturally. Unless one's heart is taken, he is easy to fall in love with. Just when I allow such fantasy, an image of another man resurfaces and fills me with dread. Why can't he leave me be! I owe him nothing!

"Are you all right?" The Admiral's concerned voice breaks up the illusion.

"I'm fine, perhaps a little fatigued," I lie. "I must have overestimated my ability to dance endlessly."

He leads me off the dance floor as musicians play the last chord. I'm reluctant to deliver the Admiral into Heather's waiting hands, but much to my shame I'm relieved she will take his attention away from me. I pick up a drink to stand beside them without speaking and listen in awe how a woman, so candidly, can diminish another human being. I remain neutral, uncertain what to make of Olivia. Surely, there lies big mistake in her past, but she also fell victim to the boredom of local gossipers who increased her fault tenfold. I don't believe the Admiral holds such rumours in high regard, preferring to keep his own council. Much to Heather's disappointment, he departs to find Olivia.

* * *

><p><span>Olivia:<span>

People hardly changed in the past few years since I've attended the last ball. They're still full of idle curiosity, prevalent to every town located far from civilized world. I used to be one of them, leading a normal life, until one man changed everything. He left unforgettable mark and cast me outside this society. I wonder, have I willingly subjected myself to public scorn and agreed to this date because I have hope that a different man will change my life once more and allow me to re-enter this world. I wait patiently for my turn to learn more about him while he is trying to understand Jade and Heather.

I'm not disappointed. Within an hour, he attempts to navigate the ballroom towards me. A woman composed of frills and ruffles tries to faint into his arms, but he skilfully sidesteps to allow a different man to rescue the poor acting scheme.

"You are not enjoying the party," he states rather than asks as he reaches me. "What can I do to change that?"

"You've taken the first steps to do so," I counter, much amused having witnesses complex sailing manoeuvre around the ballroom. "However, as much as I wish to appeal to your sympathy, I was not entirely miserable. I tend to enjoy social gatherings, just not the unpleasant whispers."

"I cannot claim warm kinship with the gossip either."

He does not press for answers, leaving me with a choice. I decide to share my side of the story, more than confident that someone managed to put me in a bad light. I had an intimate relationship before marriage, never doubting my fiancées' word that we will be husband and wife. The invitations were sent, guests bought their gifts and then he was seen boarding a ship that departed for England. My brief narrative is dispassionate. The loss of love in the past no longer brings pain, only bitterness, which the Admiral sees as well.

"I admire that you are willing to move forward," he tells me simply, " and I believe you are here for a good reason."

I allow a first genuine smile this evening. I've shared polite, meaningless smiles with hosts and curious busybodies who only made attempts to be civil so they could pry and divulge a miss-worded sensation. This is different. Mr Norrington and I share similar experience. Had he not been deceived by his former fiancée as well? I always carried guilt after my fiancée disappeared, thus accepting public scorn like it was deserved. Looking at the Admiral, however, I strongly question whether a person disgraced according to social norms is truly disgraced. I don't think he is.

"Thank you for everything," I tell him truthfully. "It's been a long time since I've attended a ball, given that no would invite me or ask me to dance if I showed up for a public gathering."

"Then, I believe I will brave another dance for your pleasure," he said, offering a hand to lead me to the dance floor.

"Will you not be afraid for your reputation?"

"I believe my reputation will diminish in self-reflection should I miss this opportunity. I form individual judgements," his voice rises to reach Heather who is feigning conversation within a small group, while making tremendous effort to overhear us, "and I disapprove of those who spread vicious gossip."

Heather doesn't falter, but her pride must be stung.

* * *

><p><span>James:<span>

It must be my imagination, hopefully not a bout of graceless vanity, where an afflictive feeling of being closely observed is creeping up my back. The experience can only be compared to a day my crew has been searching for a missing sailor in jungle, unaware of one hungry python stalking me with elaborate dinner plans. Thus, the ball's closing, suffered first to last minute and deprived of a chance to depart with a convenient excuse, makes me happier than a bay full of first-rate ships under my command. Persistent suspicions that once again I've been set up, are confirmed as I adjourn to the carriage where Groves is waiting for me, grinning ear to ear.

I smile pleasantly as well, estimating whether HMS _Victory's_ bow requires a figurehead shaped like my first officer.

"Tomorrow is the rose ceremony. I hope candle light and music haven't interfered with your decision which two women will leave tomorrow?" Groves postpones his demise with a question.

A credit must be given where it's due. The ball allowed me to learn enough about three women. However, I have many questions about the others. "I haven't made up my mind yet. Some of them bring up conflicting emotions such as Nessa. She's one of the kindest people I've ever met. Yet, I have trouble discerning what she believes in and whether she has any opinions at all or she always adapts to whatever others tell her."

Perhaps, I shouldn't have appealed to Theodore's sound judgement to help me determine who I may have overlooked unfairly. He quirks an amused eyebrow. "So, you prefer someone who will throw plates at your head and possess a thoroughly disagreeable, over the top opinionated personality?"

"I constantly put up with you, so it must be logical to presume that I prefer socializing with such people," I state dryly.

"You're too kind, thus it wounds me to claim that the plates part is slander."

"May I remind you about a certain fifteen pound vase that made an unfortunate collision with the back of my skull due to your effort?"

The days when Theodore felt guilty about that event are long gone and cannot be taken advantage of, otherwise I wouldn't have made this comment. "Circumstances led me to believe you were a pirate," he counters without batting an eyelash.

"Circumstances nearly led you to write in a thorough report that your commanding officer had been killed by a painted piece of the ancient pottery."

Theodore places a hand over his heart and composes the sombrest expression fit for a funeral. "May it rest in pieces," he declares.

"Tomorrow may bring more broken objects, hopefully without partake of my person in that process," I state the matter at hand. I don't believe such a short time is enough to fall in love, but everyone has pride. I'm concerned who will be offended by my choice or worse, hurt.


	9. Twelve Remain

**Twelve Remain**

Heather:

Another rose ceremony finds me in ill spirits despite a new and beautiful dress that I'm wearing, much to the envy of all ladies who understand fashion since my brother acquired it from a merchant who brought it from England. Throughout the evening, only one question troubles me. I cannot believe I can be denied a rose because of some disreputable wench. The only way Olivia can receive a rose is by inspiring pity, whereas the Admiral is too kind. I intend to teach him that there is no sense in pitying fallen human beings, but first I must repair my standing with him. I approach when he is with Thelma as it is no challenge to take a man from her and ask whether I may have a word in private.

"Of course."

The Admiral makes an apology to Thelma before leading me to the garden away from prying ears due to the sensitive nature of our conversation. We've had a good relationship developing before the ball, which must be restored. I must have another chance, but I cannot divulge what the man within an elbow reach is thinking. He treats me cordially, yet without enthusiasm.

"I wish to apologize," I state, looking down humbly once we're alone. "Yesterday there's been a misunderstanding about Olivia. She is a fine woman who has been treated unkindly, thus I've taken it upon myself to inform you that she was alone that evening. I hope you understand that I've been re-stating ill rumours to draw attention to the problem without them being my personal opinion. Perhaps, I've stated some things not as diplomatically as I ought to have, for which I do apologize."

"Thank you," he tells me after a short pause. For a few moments, I feel that he can pierce through all the lies and see into my heart, which is most disconcerting. "I have great respect for those who strive to correct misunderstandings with all the courage and honesty required; and for those who can face their mistakes."

"I thank you for believing me," I say. We exchange a few polite phrases before we're discovered. My resentment for Brenda grows as she reminds me that all women must have a chance to speak with the Admiral privately. I watch him retreat, questioning whether he believed me. I had excellent chances to receive a rose before that ill fated ball. That wretched women now is ought to be happy. No one speaks ill of her anyone after the Admiral made is exceptionally clear that he does not approve of her exclusion from society. My apology was convincing enough, but he hadn't thanked me personally for telling the truth. He spoke too generally to determine whether he wants me to stay. I must wait to find out.

* * *

><p><span>Louisa:<span>

Time flies and disappears forever, even faster than my youngest brother wolfs down all foods edible and not exactly edible. The next rose ceremony came before I could bat an eyelash. I stand on its doorstep, questioning whether I've done enough to continue along this path that seems to wind along seashore, treacherously slippery in places, but nonetheless beautiful. I'm not prepared yet to leave it, though the favour is yet to be gained with the Admiral.

The other women share the sentiment. However, I note with an imps of mischief lighting from within me, as Amanpreet walks past proud as a peacock, we address the tension differently. Keeping oneself entertained is a cleverly devised method of dealing with an uptight knot of nerves that plagues this cocktail party.

"Goodness Gracious, Amanpreet," I exclaim, widening my eyes double the size of a scandalized lemur, "what happened to your dress!"

Like a woman who wholeheartedly believes that the world has been created exclusively for good looking people, she panics, and spins this way and that as I haphazardly keep pointing out the ever changing place of a supposed disaster. "It's at such an inappropriate place too, how dreadful!" I whisper with a doomed delight into her ear, expertly jumping over her long, cream-coloured train. The way she's dressed, one may think she came to try on the wedding band today. "You may want to cover it!"

Creating mayhem always means getting passersby involved. "Hurry, hurry! Bring us that carafe of water before this shrimp sauce gets dry, else we'll never get it out!" I urge Nessa who happens to walk by. The girl desperately needs a distraction. She walks around in circles, semi-lost and fretting inwardly. She eagerly grasps onto opportunity to be helpful once more. Due to her overwhelming kindness and good intentions, the carafe's content is quickly spilled all over Amanpreet.

"The Admiral's here!" I whisper fervently into her ear and Amanpreet with a mouse like squeak she will later deny flees to the powder room. My gleeful enjoyment of self-caused mayhem is, however, smitten by just lightening.

"I do believe my task of achieving a God blessed matrimony will be difficult to fulfill, given that young ladies encourage each other to flee my presence."

When I claimed that James Norrington was here, I certainly didn't imagine him to really be here, observing my activities. The room, suffocating enough, suddenly grows even hotter. I do miss Yulia; her presence always cools down the place significantly and makes icicles grow in sunbathing spots. I do what I always do whenever I'm caught off guard. "Admiral!" I spin around with a light smile and mock salute him. "Every one of us counts dearly on your resourcefulness to overcome this obstacle!" I inform him. My fears are put to rest for he isn't scowling in disproval like all official dignitaries do whenever they're immitating a severely miffed turtle, in fact, he looks much amused.

"I wouldn't dare disappoint you," he informs me, "yet in my lifetime I've discovered that the best way to solve a problem is not to cause it."

"Are you saying that I cause trouble?" I inquire innocently, delighted that he is not as serious as I first thought him to be. I would hate to marry a man with a charm of a withering asparagus. "That may require further proof."

He nods with a mock gravity. "Perhaps, I ought to keep you in this mansion longer to investigate."

It is a promise he'll keep. When Mr Groves appears to usher us into a room where a ceremony will commence and lines us up in a pretty, colourful line, I'm smiling, much to the annoyance of other women. Everyone is far too pessimistic. They need to follow my example and smile. Men like that. So does Norrington. The very first rose of the remaining twelve goes to me as he walks in and his eyes lock with mine. As I bounce down from the step I've been standing on to bestow a hug on him and receive the flower from his hand, I feel happier than the day my favourite brother returned home from a three year travel.

The Admiral does, however, take pity on all the suffering souls for he calls Amanpreet and Olivia next. I heard from Tracy that I should keep my mouth shut about Olivia least I'll invoke displeasure, which isn't a problem. My opinion is whatever the general opinion is. If Olivia had been misjudged, then I suppose I can get along with her. I have far more trouble with Brenda he names next. I can't tell why exactly, but my intuition is rarely wrong. She is a two faced snake, if only I could prove it. I hope she does not use some black magic to enchant the Admiral. It's the second time that he calls her name early.

The tension in the room is increasingly daunting with each given rose as fewer chances remain for those who stand without the flower. I cannot decide who I feel more sympathy for, those not chosen or James Norrington. He is a good man who deserves to be loved truly and passionately. I begin cheering inwardly or frowning in disapproval with each rose he hands out, depending on how I feel about each woman. I count every rose until there is only one left.

Ever eye is on him as the Admiral picks up the remaining flower. He was confident up to this point; but, he now hesitates between three women left. They're so different: Heather fearful to leave, but too proud to admit that not everyone is below her consideration; Tracy simply waiting for the inevitable; and Nessa who looks at him sadly with a small hope. I know he will not go back on the decision he'll make as we all wait in trepidation. At last, his voice breaks the silence.

"Tracy."

* * *

><p>And then, there were twelve.<p>

Ladies eliminated:

1. Yulia – 24, well read, devoted, uptight, religious

2. Nessa – 20, old fashioned, husband is more important than wife, defers to the partner

3. Heather – 21, wealthy, bully, sides with drama, looks down on others

Ladies who have received a rose:

1. Amanpreet – 20, spoiled, pretends to be modest but isn't

2. Lucia – 22, pushover, modest, kind

3. Louisa – 21, outgoing, funny, honest, horse face

4. Thelma – 16, has many siblings, mature, reliable

5. Ramona – 21, bookish, educated, well mannered, reserved, long nose

6. Rhea – 26, compassionate, tender, widow, mother of three children

7. Joanna – 23, lost her fiancée, melancholy, tries to live again

8. Carmen – 19, adventurous, free spirited, tomboy

9. Tracy – 19, gossipy, not overly bright, nosy

10. Olivia – 23, well tempered, patient, disgraced, fiancée abandoned her

11. Brenda – 21, beautiful, daughter of a broke nobleman

12. Jade – 19, graceful, gifted in music and dancing


	10. Hidden Truths

Hi everyone,

How are you? It's a lovely time of the year. Although I have a lot to do, I'm very happy to have you with me, and I'll do my best to run regular updates because Christmas is coming. Here's to hope for inspiration. Cheers. =)

* * *

><p><strong>Hidden Truths<strong>

Groves:

"Have you located Jack Sparrow?"

James' hands, firmly clasped behind his back, is not an encouraging sign as he pins me and Phillip to the cerulean couch with the force of his gaze. The entire room dressed in light greens and blues is like a sea with the clouds on the horizon. Both of us press into the pillows, wondering when a lightening may strike.

"No," Phillip ventures since he was the one to lose the coin toss and thusly became responsible for debriefing James on our progress. "But, after a thorough and carefully marked investigation involving disguises we arrested a group of smugglers who arrived last week on the _Eastern Maiden_. Afterwards, the search stalled. General population reported no other strangers in town."

"Is that all?"

"There was also a parrot," Phillip adds hopefully.

"You have no idea how long it took Mr Klutz here to catch and arrest him," I put in helpfully, since James does not look overly impressed that it took us four days to confiscate several barrels of alcohol and arrest a few common scoundrels with a parrot.

"It has an advantage over me. It can fly!" Phillip exclaims indignantly.

"Allow me to summarise our position, gentlemen," James cuts in. "Meanwhile, a severely miffed Goddess may appear any moment and turn me into food fit for sea urchins, your most valiant efforts to find the means to appease her have resulted in an arrested parrot, after assuring me that I must put my trust into you two and not take part in the search. Instead, I've been coerced into dancing and sharing close quarters with a wild pack of obnoxious women."

"You're right," I interject. The moment is as good as any to introduce my new idea. "You should take matters into your own hands. I'm confident the women will be otherwise occupied today. They can do without your company while we investigate."

"Occupied?" James asks suspiciously and then sighs in resignation, realising he walked into another trap. "Be out with it, Teddy."

"Your suspicions are unwarranted." I wrinkle my nose at the nickname he purposely uses to annoy me. "Do you not trust Phillip to make accurate tactical decisions for you?"

"I would if you were talking about the _Victory_."

"Since you can trust him with your fine ship, I'm sure he can be trusted to give you a fair advice on women," I assure him. "I've given this matter a serious consideration. When a woman wishes to attract a man, her best qualities naturally come forward, which by no means guarantees an angel once you are a standing fool with a ring on your finger. You and I could be too close to see what lies beneath those pretty smiles; whereas, a fresh perspective may reveal the nature of each woman better. Today, Phillip will go into the mansion and share the beautiful company, talk to the lovely women, ask them questions. Then, he will be in a position to judge which one is ill suited for you. Of course, it will be merely a recommendation, but if you agree, she will pack her bags and go home at the end of the day."

"Another words, you two want a say in who I get to marry," James summarises.

I escape soft confines of the couch ready to proceed with the plan. "Inevitably."

* * *

><p><span>Gillette:<span>

When it comes to women, Heaven have mercy on anyone who happens to fall into the plotting clutches of one Theodore Groves and his extensive wishes to entangle you in twisted webs of amorous nature. With these thoughts, I take shelter behind a decorative vase that's filled with outrageously long, black and white feathers that belong to a creature unknown, which makes it a decent shelter from Tracy who happens to walk by.

My unenviable position is explained quite easily. Once the women found out that I'm here to decide which one of them is no match for James, they became obsessively kind, overseeing to my every need, suffocating me with pillows tucked all over my body for comfort and attempting to stuff me with tea, pastries and salty dishes all mixed together, which admittedly I was not against until I've been fed half-prepared clam chowder with hot pepper thrown into it by dire mistake of reason that one pinch of rare delicacy which adds a delightful taste to the food will taste even better if there is a barrel of it. Why add it into food that does not go with it at all, remains a mystery.

As a reminder to be more careful with the selection of what I put into my mouth in the future, my stomach makes a displeased growl, though all I've swallowed was a first spoon of the explosive concoction. Tracy stops in her tracks and returns to the vase as I freeze, still hoping to pass for part of a decorative ornament. This woman is the worst of them all. She decided that the best means to ensure that I don't send her home is to make me fall madly in love with her. Thus, I would do the bidding as her eternal servant who will do all in his power to ensure she marries James and lives with him happily ever after at my heroic self-sacrifice while I'd be mauling through the pain of letting her go. Her genius plan has a flaw – I do not steal women from friends, not that I would strive to attain the one who competes in intelligence with cooked papaya even if she was trice available. The nature has far too generously invested into her shoe and corset size, neglecting to leave much for the intelligence. Barely missing the trim of my hat, she shuffles through the feathers and plucks the fluffiest one from the bunch. I cannot believe my luck when she turns away and proceeds to the nearest mirror where she sticks the feather into her hair, twisting this way and that like a monkey on a branch to admire her own reflection. James must have never gotten a proper chance to speak with her; otherwise, she wouldn't be here. Currently, she earned a number one place on my recommendation list with all her hard work, although those women who poisoned me with the chowder are close. I won't be able to hold any food down for days!

And to think I was worried about making a wrong recommendation. Groves wasn't too helpful either. When I shared with him that I worry what will happen if I make a mistake and ask a wrong woman to leave, he informed me that James will banish me from his circle of friends forever and transfer me to another port under command of some Commodore evil who lives in a fort manned by rats and cockroaches. As dire as that situation would be, I don't see how my current position is any better. I am crammed into a narrow crack, which by logic I should not fit into. As every man locked in unmovable posture, an unreachable itch develops that grows proportionally worse the more I struggle to maintain my cover.

My suffering, however, doesn't end. Instead of judging that she looks marvellous and going away, Tracy is joined by another woman, this one most agreeable of the bunch. She is the only one who hadn't attempted to suffocate me with kindness, for which I'll be ever grateful.

Tracy turns around, seeing another reflection in the mirror. "Jade, are you also looking for Mr Gillette?" she asks, eager to hear a positive answer so she can renew the assault on my senses and honour.

"If I had, I'd be in his company," the other woman points out.

Tracy's hands fly onto her hips, in dire displeasure that her intelligence is mocked. There's a saying that any foolish person when they get angry suddenly become smart. "I bet you aren't even trying!" she exclaims, bearing down on her opponent. "Pretend to be all fancy and too important to try and please, but Heather is onto you. She said before leaving that you aren't trying because you don't care. You don't like Mr Norrington any!"

"I have all the respect he deserves, but it would be rash to say I'm in love after knowing him so little," Jade parries the blow evenly and her eyes, green as the emeralds, hold a cold glitter of jewels and dislike for the woman who hit something painful hidden within.

The threat lingering in the air only challenges Tracy to continue the accusation. "You won't be in love with him even if you knew him a lot!" she yells, uncaring whether someone may overhear them. "Can you truthfully say that you want to get married? Can you? Do it now! Tell me you're sure! You can't. I may not be as fancy as you, but I know that I want a family with all my heart, which you can't even put in words. Why don't you go away and let those who believe they can be in love and have a good family remain."

The echo of her words rebounds off the walls and flies out the window as both women glare at each other angrily. I'm nearly prepared to abandon my cover to break them apart should a fight to death break out, but then Tracy with a superior shrug spins on her hill and the feather rouses along with her. "There's nothing you want from Mr Norrington," she throws last remark over her shoulder. "Just leave."

They depart and I slowly abandon cover with a hollow chill at the bottom of my stomach. What am I going to tell James, knowing he holds Jade in high regard? Elizabeth is enough. I cannot let him fall in love with a woman who will not return the feeling. I open the window and abandon the mansion, having learned all I needed.

I locate my friends behind a mahogany desk in James' mansion, consulting a town map and composing a list of places where Jack Sparrow might be found. As always, James takes the meticulous approach of which Theodore, striving for action, grows tired. My news bring diversity to the dull search, but hardly contribute to cheering us up. James sinks into deep silence as I sink into an armchair, full of pity for my swirling and rumbling stomach. Theodore waits for resolution, idly observing a large blob of ink dangle off the tip of the abandoned quill and plop onto the table surface.

"I asked myself during the last rose ceremony whether it might be best to let Tracy go," James announces the verdict into the silence. "Allowing her to continue believing that we are a good match is unfair. I've learned all too well what it means to be led on. When it comes to Jade, we cannot assume that what Tracy said about her is truth. Jade hadn't confirmed it."

I shift in my seat uneasily. Sometimes silence speaks louder than words, but Theodore gestures for me to be quiet. "I know what you're thinking," he says. "You'd rather risk getting hurt yourself than sending someone home when she may not deserve it."

James tenses, expecting that we'll try to talk him out of this decision. "You know me too well," he acknowledges.

"Give yourself a chance to confirm or deny these suspicions," Theodore reasons. "This week, you will have a date with two women. At the end of the date you will decide which one of them is best to continue developing a relationship with and which one to let go. Choose Jade and one other woman you doubt. You will have your answer by the end of the day."

"I see." James folds his hands behind his back and faces the window. I follow him and clasp his shoulder hard. Jokes aside, it is not an enviable position to dash someone's hopes every week. But, no one said that road to love was easy. "I suppose there is Thelma," he tells us. "Taking care of younger siblings shaped her into a highly responsible young lady. She is more so mature than many other women at the mansion. Yet, she is barely sixteen. She may grow and change, so will her heart. I question whether she's ready to make a life long commitment."

"Well then, we have a message," says Theodore. He beacons for James to sit down behind his desk and shuffles through the drawers for a fresh parchment, which he folds like a note.

Together, they compose a message and James' neat writing adorns the page.

_Aboard HSM Victory under the stars, there will be_

_One date and _

_One rose._

_One stays and_

_One goes. _

_Thelma and Jade_


	11. Hold of the Past

Hello everyone, I hope you are having a wonderful season. I don't know whether I'll update exactly on Christmas, thus I'm wishing you the warmest in the heart and kindest holiday season and lots of love.

* * *

><p><strong>Hold of the Past<strong>

Thelma:

Someone must have scooped up the stars from the sky and thrown them into the sea for they glimmer everywhere around our small boat as it glides on soft waves towards the _Victory_ that slowly grows to tower above us. It is peaceful indeed at a place where our date is to be. There must be crewmen assigned to keep watch, but they are silent and invisible, providing an illusion that there are just the three of us walking together as soon as we come aboard. Alone, I may have grown weary of silence and darkness, but the Admiral's presence transforms our walk to the quarterdeck into the most romantic one in my life. Silver moon beams mingle with lights of the multiple lanterns that glow along the port and starboard railing. I get to see him up close and shyly admire such handsome features. Only the rough material of his uniform under my palm reminds me that everything's real. All too often his face is distanced by others coming between us, all searching for his attention. I cannot fight them. I feel but tiny driftwood, falling behind a ship. Somehow, he creates rare moments when I see him up close like tonight, though tonight is special.

He is a stoic man; a little intimidating at first. It passes once I see his eyes, gentlest and full of kindness. He reminds me of my brother Josh who is seven months younger, but I've always felt that he is older. He has an inept ability to lead and direct. When I was younger, I would despair, chasing after my unruly siblings to wash and dress them for dinner. Then, Josh would appear with a few words that have to be magic because suddenly they obey without him ever raising his voice. I was even a little cross that he can do it so easily, whereas I must expend so much energy to accomplish the simplest tasks. James, I'm starting to think about him without the title, is such a man too.

He has unconditional trust and loyalty of anyone who happens to be influenced by him; that's won by respect only. He never mistreats anyone or places unfair demands on those who try to do their jobs fairly, though he could be decisive with those who break the law without being cruel. I don't believe I've ever heard of a whipped man on his ship, though it's not so rare in the Navy. Nor does he ever make someone else do the work he's responsible for, even at times when no one would think ill of him. If anything, he does more than he must.

I remember the day we were returning from the group picnic when our carriage ran wide into a deep ground roughening. The carriage driver was so very cross that he told us to get out and red faced huffed and puffed without making the slightest impression to freeing the carriage.

In this woeful situation James came upon us, riding his steed. The carriage driver asked politely whether the Admiral be so kind as to ride to town and direct two men this way to help with freeing the carriage. We were all daunted because waiting an hour for his return seemed awfully long in dreadful heat. But, James said it won't be necessary. We weren't sure what he was going to do when he dismounted and ordered the carriage driver to take his seat for many gentlemen would be reluctant to be demeaned by dirty work. Ignoring such reservations, the Admiral lifted the carriage high enough for the wheel to find ground. Though he was doing the work that's heavy for two men, so calmly, he ordered the carriage driver to urge the horses on slowly without showing the enormous strain. So reluctantly and with a protesting creaks, the carriage came free and the horses snorted heavily from the effort. We surrounded our saviour to thank him. To that he replied that he us responsible for the port and will soon send a team to better this road; a word he kept.

Walking beside such a man fills me with great admiration and some feeling that seems much like magic. I cannot suppress discomfort when the Admiral asks Jade to speak with him privately. I let them go, hopefully without betraying this darker thought. I cling to belief that we must respect each other. I do ponder what they will talk about while waiting on the quarterdeck under the stars with a violin music played by an invisible musician that envelops the night in the light shades of sorrow.

Jade:

The night is set up to touch with the romance even the hardest soul. No woman would stay indifferent to its beauty. I believe I have been waiting for a moment like this with trepidation when I will be left one on one with my heart to search it for truth. Thus, it is an immediate echo of my feelings when after the brief conversation it took to reach quarterdeck that James calls me aside. There is nothing poor in his manners that indicate I must worry, yet I feel he can see though me, down to the quickly beating heart.

"It's a lovely night," he tells me, walking to the bow where the violin music would masque our conversation from any bystanders.

"It is," I agree with faint hope that this is just a casual conversation; an illusion quickly shattered.

"I do apologize that a kind impression of it must be marred by one of you leaving. To end uncertainty, I must ask for your permission to speak freely."

I don't want him to do so, though I speak contrary, "I expect nothing short of you but to be frank."

The Admiral clears his throat, hesitating just slightly before plunging in. "You are a remarkable young woman, marked by decorum and brilliance. I'm grateful you've chosen to accept an invitation. Nonetheless, I ask whether it is a decision you strongly doubt, perhaps not with your mind but with your heart."

"I think everyone is prone to doubt," I tell him. There is something compelling in his voice that stops me from lying. I seek clarity, maybe from him as well. "The heart often has many foolish desires. It comes into conflict with our mind that wishes what's best for us. How many times have we wished we would follow common sense and be better off for it?"

"More than I can count," he whispers into a pause where both of us know that I haven't answered his question. "Yet, there's also the risk of bringing down onto yourself a lifelong unhappiness by ignoring your heart's wishes. It is something I cannot contest. I would be honoured to ask you to remain should your heart be with you. But, I do remember, always, that I'm not the only one who makes choices."

It is such a delicate, melancholy emotion. He does not tell me that I must leave, but I feel like I am being pushed away, gently.

I cannot protest as vehemently as I ought to. There was a young man in my life few years ago, just a stable boy, nothing more. I saw him whenever I went riding daily, though I think my interest in the subject was prompted by him being there. We never exchanged more than few words, I promised him nothing because I knew my family would never consider him. I was afraid to pay more than a single look. One day, he came before me and said that he loves me and that he is leaving until he can stand up in front of my parents as a suitor. I haven't seen him since that day. It's foolish to even think about him. All I wanted when I received an invitation was to fall in love, start a family and be free of that hold. I guess, no one else can do it for me but me, and the Admiral knows it. He's right.

James leads me to the boat where a sailor is waiting to take me to shore. Our hands link one last time as he helps me to take a seat. Then, I'm lowered into the gentle rocking of the waves. His figure is briefly visible in the lanterns' glimmer as he turns away and disappears from my sight.

James:

I turn away as the boat touches the water. Jade is a fine woman. I hope she will make peace with the past haunting her. Now that I've spoken to her, I see it clearly. How strange that I can sense gambler's clever deceptions and political machinations so easily, but I cannot see clearly the hearts of those close to me. I'm lucky to have friends like Groves and Gillette to point it out. I cannot say whether coming to me was her attempt at denial or acceptance. What's undeniable is that tonight's choice is right. We all have inner demons. It's only a matter of overcoming them.

What I still need to determine are the fears and hopes of the woman I will spend this evening with. Thelma is observing the stars in the water until she hears my footsteps and turns with a quiet question.

"Where is Jade?"

"She's safe. She is returning home under lieutenant's supervision."

"I see."

She cannot state regret, but there isn't a glimpse of triumph. She accepts the turn of events thoughtfully. This seriousness appears to be out of place, lying on the fragile shoulders of someone this young.

"I'm sorry for leaving you out here all alone, although it is perfectly safe. If you're prepared to leave the quarterdeck, there is dinner waiting for us in the guest cabin," I offer.

She comes towards me on her own initiative and accepts my hand with an answer of independent thought that leads me away from misgivings concerning her age. It must be the caution holding me back due to my past that should not be allowed to influence how I see her. I must know she's here on her own will rather than doing the right thing suggested by others.

"Actually," she tells me, "I would like to stay at this enchanted spot a bit longer, this time in your company."


	12. New Day

Ramona:

Is it not funny how the smallest of things create great happiness. It's as simple as being away from the place of great irritation on a sunny afternoon in a company of a comfortable man. Most of us were in shock last night when Thelma returned, seemingly floating above the ground, thus contributing to great quarrels and unrest. There are fewer of us left, but it seems the remaining find extra energy to fight more in spite of a few friendships and alliances forming. Carmen and Louisa who usually brighten up the atmosphere are gloomier than a grave of the ancient sea serpent, all thanks to a silly bet they've been drawn into due to their quarrelling. They wagered that Jade will come back from the date, against Brenda's word that it will be Thelma. I thought Jade will be returning too, but I've prudently stayed out of such foolishness. The losing party forfeited their right to approach James during the pre-rose ceremony unless he chose to speak with them. Maybe the promise of love is to blame, but seeing so many silly deeds accomplished in short period dampens my hope for humanity's survival.

I would despair to find some intelligence in this world if it wasn't for Father Moore, the overseer of the Port Royal's hospital. High forehead framed by brown hair and piercingly blue eyes give him appearance of an enlightened man who can see people inside out and penetrate in thought into the fabric of the world. I'm flattered that he took interest in a mild suggestion I've made during our stay that evolved into a deep conversation. Father Moore is entrusted with the administrative work. In his free time he attends the spiritual well being of the patients, although he no longer belongs to the church. The sea called him away from devoting his life to prayer and solitude. Thus, he found himself standing in the hospital's courtyard half a world away from England, speaking to 'a woman rich in spirit and mind' as he described me.

Father Moore speaks highly of the Admiral. It is due to James that myself, Lucia and Joanna came to do charity work, mainly handing out the stew to the patients. I imagine it will be one of the responsibilities of his future wife. The Admiral along with Governor Swann is deeply involved in improving the town, which is a bit unusual. I imagine any other Admiral would normally be concerned with the port defences only. Regardless, this gives me an edge over others. I feel confident when it comes to management, even if getting into this much administrative detail such as cutting the cost repairs smartly is hardly the right pastime for a woman. My conversation with Father Moore is so interesting that I feel no resentment when James Norrington steps away to converse with Joanna. My sight lingers just a little, admiring his tall figure. He is such a handsome man, yet, today I am drawn to the enlightened blue eyes rather than sea green.

Joanna:

I've never seen so many spoons in my life: wooden spoons, silver spoons, spoons nearly as large as a plate and so small they're only fit for children, plain spoons and heavily ornamented. All of them share one quality – they've been donated to the hospital by kind hearted citizens. Well, that and the fact that I've been charged with counting them all after dinner to help an inventory check. There are very few literate people around to do it properly. The seemingly innocent task is harder than it looks. "Seventy one, seventy two…" I mutter in deep concentration, having separated the silver spoons from the bunch.

"There's one under the table."

James Norrington dutifully picks up the escaped object and places it in front of me. I can almost swear I see a flicker of amusement before he innocently offers help. As grateful as I wish to be, I feel flustered and indignant.

"You made me lose count!" I exclaim.

"Forgive me. An attractive woman concentrating so seriously on her task attracts mischief."

He maintains an air of gravity about him with that apology; however, something tells me he isn't too sorry. I've nearly forgotten that this was a date. Coming to the hospital to see so many patients and interacting with so many people has overwhelmed me.

I used to do this with my fiancée. I wish I've gotten a chance to build more memories before he was taken by God. After that, I couldn't find the courage to do this again. I have forgotten what it means to do a good deed. It's a missed feeling that fills me with warmth. I should not have locked my heart away this long. Meeting James Norrington is helping me remember. "I forgive you because you've made this day special," I tell him.

"No. It was you who did it."

I don't know where his heart is. I feel deeper bond between him and some other women, but I will remember this day as something special.

James:

Saying goodbye to Jade last night was difficult, yet I'm too far swept away by a whirlwind to reflect too deeply on the experience – meaning to brood as certain someone has so ineloquently put it. Theodore Groves doesn't allow me to think, sending me on another date as it is his intent. I must make decisions based on intuition. However, no matter how hard he tries, I am not so easily distracted.

As much as I prefer to enjoy the day, I've secretly checked the hospital for any suspicious intruders while the women were occupied. I trust Father Moore surely would have noticed anyone suspicious. Leave it to Jack Sparrow to insert his insufferable being where it's unwanted, including my date. The opportunity to search for him was too convenient to miss. I have a bad feeling Calypso might be getting impatient.

I escape these thoughts when Lucia passes by, dragging a cauldron that surely exceeds her weight across the courtyard towards the front door. I try to suppress a short laugh at the sight. Lucia is a funny creature. If the dragging can be somehow accomplished, taking it up the stairs is an entirely harder matter, complicated by a brown puppy that lives with Mr Moore bouncing about at her feet. She puts down the cauldron and paces around it in deepest contemplation, waving her hands in the air like she's reading some kind of spell. I think she's discussing with the dog what to do and then bites her lip and grabs the cauldron again with a renewed determination. The puppy lets out a small bark of discontent and grabs the hem of her skirt with his teeth. The ritual may look odd to someone who doesn't know her. Lucia is easily misunderstood because she lives inside her head, doing things that may seem awkward, but do make sense in her mind. In the tug of war, the puppy wins and she places the cauldron back on the ground, gently scolding the dog for stopping her.

"I believe he's expressing a wish to carry it for you," I tell her, making sure she sees my approach. I wouldn't want that prehistoric contraption dropped on her foot. "He has a point. Meanwhile I cannot offer a paw, I can give you a hand, providing it is acceptable."

"No!" she exclaims vehemently and then shakes her head as if to cancel the harsh exclamation. "I mean to say, that is, I appreciate your kindness, but I cannot trouble you with something so trivial! It is my job. I should be the one to do it!"

"I admire your strong sense of responsibility. However, I do wish to challenge small part of your statement," so I tell her, seeing that she fully believes her words. "It is our job. Since we've arrived together, shouldn't we do it together?"

"Oh! I suppose so," she concedes. The puppy lets go of her skirt and lets out a short bark. I suppose he approves.

"Besides," I say a little boldly, leaning closer than perhaps it's appropriate to take the heavy object away from her, "I would like to help even if it is your job only." The puppy turns away pointedly and goes chasing after a spoon that Joanna drops.

"Um, well," Lucia fidgets under my scrutiny, but I have faith she will speak up honestly even if it embarrasses her deeply, "as selfish as I'm being, I do want you to help. Not that I wouldn't try my best to do my work. After all, it's you who inspires me to try no matter how difficult. I always see you doing your best."

It's my turn to be flustered. "I'm not that perfect when it comes to hard work," I tell her. "It depends on what it is. I'm not fond of paperwork. My assistant always complains how late it is, providing he can find me. To be honest, I don't feel very repentant when he cannot find me." Confessing my shortcomings is uncomfortable, but I cannot force guilt to come. I imagine he is very cross with me since I've been using this marriage as cover up for not seeing him. Ninety five percent of those papers are an irrelevant pile of bureaucracy, instilled by the Admiralty. I wonder, will they believe me if I tell them that the ship which should have carried those papers ran into storm and sunk.

"Oh! I missed it!" Lucia exclaims in sincere disappointment, seemingly to herself.

"Missed what?" I glance around, wondering if I can bring back whatever it is she wanted. But, there's just the sunlit courtyard without anything intriguing going on.

"I thought you've smiled. But, I missed it. Sometimes you do that, suppress a smile when you want to laugh," she says and then looks horrified. "I mean, I don't think you're gloomy or anything unsightly like that! You're always so serious and that's good! That is that's what I meant to say!"

Her face is flushed. She looks ready to hide underneath the cauldron we're carrying. That's how she is. Lucia always confesses to me whatever is on her mind. Today, I'll be giving a rose to one of these women who will be safe during the next rose ceremony. I had no idea who to choose when Groves informed me. Joanna amazes me with the strength of her spirit. Ramona must be the smartest woman I've met. It seemed too dazzling to choose. But, just like that, I suddenly know who. It will be in the afternoon when we part ways, but right now I simply smile at her.

Groves:

"I knew he'd like her!" I mutter self-satisfied, feeling perfectly comfortable in the position chosen as observation point at an old attic, uninhabited except for the spiders, if it weren't for some hinge sinking into my side and a minor hole in the boards where my foot is. The house is located across the hospital, half-hidden by trees. Thus, it's impossible to detect me. Surely, James is hugely exaggerating when he is complaining how difficult I've made his life with the insane idea to marry him. He certainly doesn't look like he's suffering. I wish I could hear what he's telling Lucia. He leans down a mere inch from her face. I don't believe he's kissed anyone yet. "Come on, just do it!" I urge, but he straightens his back. My position would be perfect if it wasn't for the constant nagging that emerges behind me.

"Do what?" an insistent inquiry comes for a hundredth time.

"Go away, Gillette!" I state, without lowering the telescope. "Haven't you found any leads on Sparrow yet?"

"Not while you're looking at James though a spyglass with a perverted look on your face," Phillip states.

"It's not perverted to look out for your friend's well being," I parry.

"You are spying on his date," Phillip claims, wrestling the telescope from me. However, I won't give it up so easily and grab it back. The floor creaks ominously as we play tug of war for possession.

"Next time bring your own telescope!" I tell him, winning the thing back.

"Next time?"

"Of course. He has a one on one date in two days. I wonder if he will finally kiss someone."

I put up the telescope, turning it this way and that to bring the hospital back into focus. For some reason in addition to blur, the world seems to be shaking.

"Uh…Theo…." Phillip says in a funny voice.

"Quit nagging!" I exclaim impatiently. "Sometimes I really wish you'd fall through the floor and disapp…..eaarrraaaah!"

The floor collapses, bringing us down several feet to the third floor where we land on the bed with the decrepit boards and spider webs crashing all around us. A spider bounces off my forehead and scooters away.

"Groves…" Gillette says into silence filled with settling dust. "If you're alive, please get your foot out of my a…." he sneezes.

I remove the leg at his request and roll off the bed, wondering what has more dust my coat or a three hundred years old carpet that has never been cleaned. As I land on my knees and hands, my nose nearly presses into the telescope that lies in shambles.

"Such shame," states Phillip light-heartedly and I suspect he's referring to my behaviour rather than broken telescope. "Don't worry; I'll buy you a new one for your birthday. Five months from now."

I groan.


	13. Rhea

Uh oh, I'm a baaad little writer for leaving this story unattended for so long. Buuuut, all is not lost and I opt for rehabilitation with a new chapter!

* * *

><p><strong>Rhea<strong>

James:

"Mommy! Mommy, are coconut palms alive?"

"I believe so," Rhea answers a hundredth question of the morning kindly as she smoothes her son's hair. "They cannot walk like us and they do not speak, but just like people they grow up big from little. They need sun and water to grow as do we. So, they are very much the living things."

Perched on a fallen tree, the six year old listens to the explanation, dangling his feet and drawing conclusions from conversations he had shared with peers as well as from overhearing adults when they didn't know he had been listening.

"Does this mean they get married?" he asks, proud of his discovery.

"Who?"

"The coconuts! Jeremy said they're part of the palm family."

I swallow a chuckle, feeling it would be inappropriate to take light when the boy is so serious. He is turning a coconut found on the beach this way and that, which became a new source of inquiry.

"Palm is a type of tree. The coconuts are the things that grow on some palm trees," Rhea explains. "There are many different kinds of palm trees. Some have coconuts growing on them and some don't. All of these different palm trees are part of the family. The ones that have coconuts growing on them are called coconut palms."

"Oh," he says no longer listening, very much occupied by a butterfly landing on a flower.

Taking Josh on a date with us hadn't been planned. It was best to avoid confusing Rhea's children by introducing a stranger to them until the boundaries of our relationship were better defined. However, Josh decided whom he wanted to meet without the adults. Beaming a warm smile, Rhea explained that her nanny has been spreading some mythical stories about my bravery and uncanny ability to send a legion of pirates running to lock themselves in jail with one glare. Under superfluous influence of these fairy tales, the boy, so Rhea claimed, wouldn't have given her peace for months to come had she gone on a date with the Admiral without him. I wondered how it was possible to give into demands of such a small creature until the creature overcame his shyness within the first hour and commanded everything around him.

Rhea is a wonderful mother. Observing her care for Josh brings about a warm feeling and desire to hold them close, protecting from anything that may upset that loving bond. At the same time, I'm overwhelmed by the enormity of how much I must learn about children, especially should I enter a family with three of them. I wonder what Rhea thinks about my clumsy interaction with her son. Being a wise woman, she will entrust her family only to a good father.

Feeling that I'm thinking about her, she turns to me, spotting a slight imperfection and delicately adjusts my necktie disarranged by the wind. The action comes naturally like she's doing it for her children. In her company even the afternoon sun feels mild. I don't allow her hand to retreat and take it into mine.

The soft breeze is relaxing. I've done well to isolate this date from Theodore's prying. The boat has taken us across the horseshoe bay to a nearby beach, travelling to which by shore would take half a day. The sailors are to return in two hours.

"Thank you for bringing me here," she smiles. "A relaxing stroll by the sea is a rare luxury lately. Not that I'd trade my cares for the world."

I follow her gaze as it consciously returns to her son or at least to the spot where he used to be a heartbeat ago.

"Josh?" She looks around quicker than I can search the area. "Josh, please come to me. This is not a good place to play hide and seek."

"This way," I point at the small footprints in the sand, swallowing a comment that on the contrary this is an excellent place to hide as the short trail leads to a dense patch of greenery where my left hand cannot distinguish the right one. Rhea's pace is slowed as her dress gets assaulted by entangling obstacles.

"We will find him quicker by splitting up," she offers, knowing that I'd be reluctant to leave her. As much as her safety is also my concern, Josh is most important.

"Don't worry." A thin thread of propriety prevents me from imposing a reassuring hug. "I will find your son. No harm will come to the boy."

Unlike a troubled mother, I move silently, relying on ruffled leaves or a spooked bird to give away the boy rather than on his judgement to reply voluntarily. I am not entirely at the mercy of the savage plants. Military career in the Caribbean is not anew charges me with the responsibility of tracking down somebody in less than habitable places. It's the last thought that no one should be around that alerts me to the voices ahead.

The greenery separates abruptly like a door flung wide open to the sea. I must have waked through the narrow jungle streak to the other side of the cape that faces away from Port Royal. Fortunately, my sudden appearance goes unnoticed by two furiously arguing men whose roguish looks are to be judged untrustworthy regardless, had an undeniable proof that they were trouble not been tied up at their feet. I'm grateful his mother does not see her son kidnapped by two ruffians. Even my resolve is tested upon hearing them discuss the boy's life so crassly.

"You imbecile! Children don't wonder alone! Someone will come looking for him!"

"He saw the crates! He was going to tell! What would you have done?"

"Returned him without a fuss! Grateful parents don't suspect an ill play from anyone who helps them find their brats! Now, we got to dirty our hands to shut them all up somehow thanks to you!"

The threat is enough. I take them by surprise, with great satisfaction smashing the hilt of my sword into the back of the head of a man nearest to me. The other reacts by throwing a punch, neglecting to draw a weapon. I dodge and land a punch strong enough to knock the bandit into the sand where the tip of my blade finds his neck. My tone is just as sharp.

"Who are you?"

The man spits out a clot of blood. He eyes me with more hatred than fear. Prompt realisation why is still too late to fix my error. There is a third bandit in possession of a firearm, which he doesn't hesitate to point at Josh.

"That, filthy mongrel, is the question you'll be answering," he announces. "Right after you drop your sword."

I comply in consideration for the boy. As expected, my adversary is up at once eager for revenge. I do not avoid his blow and stagger into the sand as he had. "Please, I'm just a tutor working for Captain Johnson!" Feigning a greater injury, I cover my face. The man holding a musket had been seen around the docks as of late. During the brief fight he hardly had the opportunity to recognise me, but once I surrendered he studies me shrewdly. "I teach the boy fencing and riding."

Several months in the company of pirates and less than honest East Trading Company representatives must have left a long-lasting influence because the lie appears to be satisfactory.

"Couldn't you teach him elsewhere?" the bandit grumbles, fingering a rapidly swelling lip that tempts him to kick me for a good measure.

"My sound preference is to keep him close to home. The boy kept nagging and nagging to go somewhere after his father left on patrol. I thought I'd take him to a place near the port where he can pretend all he wants that he's having an adventure, so he'd stop bothering me. Unfortunately, he got away when we came here."

Another insult is thwarted as the armed man, I mark as the leader, suggests that their moaning accomplice who is regaining consciousness must be tended to.

"That's an expensive sword for a tutor," he notes, taking over the interrogation.

"It belongs to the captain. I use it sometimes when he's not looking."

An ill act makes an impression on him that it's a story to trust. "Lets pretend we believe you," he allows, though he's beaten companions seem in favour of shooting us. "What are we suppose to do with you?"

"It's not a kingly amount, yet I can pay you to let us go." The offer has to be tempting. Not that these men would hesitate to protect their interests, but they are low life thieves, not murderers. "The boy will not be a problem. I'm the only one who listens to him, but should he mention anything about your activities, I'll say we've encountered fishermen. The rest will be attributed to his imagination."

"How do we know you won't seek military on us instead of payment?"

"The captain will find out that I've endangered his son should the military get involved. I'll lose my job."

"Do you always have a perfect answer prepared?"

"Just let him pay up and shut up," his companion interrupts a lot less in favour of shooting once the coin is mentioned.

"I told YOU to shut up!" the leader snaps.

I discretely observe the jungle as they argue. The sailors should have returned for us by now with Groves leading them. Rhea is safe with them. It's only a question how long they will need to find this spot.

"The two of us will take them to town to receive our pay. Carl stays behind to guard the crates," the leader sums up the argument. His companion grumbles that he can accompany me without help, which earns him a poisonous comment how miserably he lost earlier confrontation. The leader observed me as soon as I made the mistake of abandoning the greenery cover and formed great suspicions upon seeing me act. A lucky coincidence that I've made up a profession linked to fencing saved us.

"We'll know where you live and come looking for you if you decide to tell on us after the exchange," he threatens, never lowering his weapon as his companion picks up another musket from one of the crates.

"I want to live and forget about this," I assure him. "Can I take the boy?"

Reinforced by a grudging nod, I kneel before Josh and whisper a request to remain silent as I remove the gag. The bandits don't give me the luxury of untying him.

"Just take him and start walking to your boat," the leader growls.

I follow his command, holding the boy firmly against my chest. I have what I wanted. The line of greenery grows closer. The startling effect of someone just a step ahead vanishing in it is fresh in my mind. Josh is perfectly still. Child's intuition prompts him to do nothing that would distract me. It helps that the pair is walking behind us. I swiftly disappear from sight pursued by a colourful profanity, but hurling words is all they manage. Despite having hoped for it, I'm startled when four armed men surround us and disarm the pair before the curse is complete.

"Temper please! We don't want children to hear bad words," a familiar voice announces gleefully.

"They're weapon smugglers," I inform my first officer. "There's one more on the beach nursing a headache in the company of very incriminating crates."

Groves takes the hint and disappears with one of the sailors to arrest the culprit. I trust him to make proper arrangements to transport the prisoners to jail and depart swiftly to return Josh to his mother who was left in the boat to wait for our return. There's much to explain.

"Don't feel guilty," she tells me once she checks every inch of her son. The child is much subdued, which is worrisome. To which she smiles and cradles him on her lap with a brief explanation that he's tired rather than afraid.

"Wasn't scared," Josh mumbles half-asleep as we head back to town. He looks at me so expectantly that I quickly confirm how admirably he behaved before the dreams claim him.

Rhea trusts me to pick him up as we leave the boat. I carry him to the waiting carriage. I have completely forgotten about the rose. Ignoring the expectation that Rhea was to depart without me, I claim a seat beside her.

"He'll be walking around all week describing how you've defeated all enemies," she speaks quietly. Josh is curled up on her lap and her hand rests protectively on his head. "You've made an unforgettable impression on my son."

"As much as he made one on me. As has his mother."

"Nonetheless, the rose will remain with you today."

"Yes."

I question whether I'll be able to fit in with her family, whether what I have to offer will be enough. Another woman would have pushed for connection because a marriage would remove many burdens from her while keeping her assured that her family will be provided for. While it's in her power to ring anyone, Rhea needs someone fifteen years older, someone rooted to land rather than prone to travelling across the seas.

"You doubt your ability to relate to children," she interprets all my thoughts correctly. "I've seen enough of your interaction with my son today to be confident that you will make a good father, just not for my family, not yet. You must grow into the role slowly with your own children."

"Allow me," I ask for permission, opening my hand. As she places hers on top, I kiss her hand with the greatest respect. "Please promise you will not hesitate to contact me should anyone ever poses a threat or a problem for you."

Rhea's smile is warm and her eyes are gentle. "I promise. God Bless You."


	14. Eight with Hope

Brenda:

What have we here? I ask myself, observing the living room through seductive eyelashes where I stand in the light that accents my beauty to the best advantage whenever the Admiral looks my way. Nine women remain. One is going home tonight. Two are safe due to the roses obtained during this week's dates. The unsafe ones dance around each other like tigers in a cage. I, on the other hand, am blessed with far greater foresight. There's little sense in sinking those drowning on their own.

Smiling kindly, I glide towards Lucia who sits in the corner of the room. "Dear heart, you are so quiet. Is anything troubling you that you seek solitude?" I ask, schooling my features to reflect heart warming concern.

"Not at all," she smiles at me timidly. "I'm very happy tonight," she glances at the rose that so contributes to her joy and irritates me to no end, "but the others as so upset. I fear it may destroy this fragile feeling. I do understand them. I would be dreadfully upset at the prospect of leaving tonight."

"Now that I see you closer, you're glowing," I admit a supposed mistake magnanimously. "Personally, I'm so happy that you have the rose. The Admiral is most perceptive. He must have known that you'll relax and be able to show your good nature once you feel secure."

"You think he gives me so much consideration?" she takes the bait like a true simpleton. "Oh, but my doubt doesn't give him justice. He is so kind and attentive. He takes time to speak with everyone, even me, though I'm always shadowed by outspoken women. I'm so grateful for it."

"Grateful?" Deepest concern shadows my feature. "But, my dear, that's not love!"

A small thrill courses up my spine when terror rises from her heart and fills her eyes. "But," she defends weakly, "My heart beats so fast whenever he looks at me. To be deprived of that would be so sad."

I take her hand and pet it reassuringly. "This is what happens when we feel gratitude and hero worship. You must be feeling awfully alone and vulnerable. It's most regretful that we don't always treat each other with kindness, but some women are awfully mean in this house. When James pays special attention, you will feel gratitude, easily mistaken for love. Such feeling will crumble once true love is met. What will you do, being bound to one man while in love with another? What will James feel when that happens?"

"I never thought of causing anyone such pain," she utters, close to crying.

"I have all the faith you won't," I assure her tenderly. "I'm sure you'll find the courage to go before James falls in love with you."

She looks down at her hands clutching the rose and then a most annoying determination sparks within. "You're right. Thank you for kind concern. I will leave, but not before I'm sure that what I feel is not love."

"Don't hesitate to ask me for advice," I smile, though I feel like clubbing her over her slow-thinking head. Lucia has to go the same way Nessa did. This isn't Amanpreet to be thrown out on her ear as soon as Norrington learns how shallow she is. Him spending time with far more interesting women is the only reason this empty rattle toy made it so far. I wouldn't be surprised if tonight Amanpreet goes home.

Amanpreet:

Another hoarse laugher, loud enough to rattle the wine glasses, erupts behind my back, tempting me to yank a rose out of Thelma's hands to plug my ears with its stem. Louisa has nothing that resembles lady-like manners, which is proven by how rudely she interrupted my smoothly proceeding conversation with the Admiral.

I told him my deepest hurts. I feel slighted because he often favours other women with conversation, while I am left out and how we both shall regret should I leave before he has the chance to learn that I am the best woman he could ask for. He thought about it shortly and fully agreed that he's at fault, which he promised to fix soon. I took it as a sign that the next one on one date will be mine. I also wanted to hint that I love jewellery, but this tomboy jumped out at us like a cat, thus chasing me away.

Louisa is the worst. She doesn't make masks out of sheep liver for the night and she hardly uses any beauty enhancing oils. She talks like a male commoner, not a lady. The Admiral wants a woman, whereas there is no woman in her. She will go home tonight.

Louisa:

I'm laughing. He's smiling – politely as he usually does. Thus, I'm having the best time charming the Admiral when Carmen swoops down at us nearly from the sky and at once tries to lead James away. She always acts far too freely for my liking. This woman behaves like this is her home and her husband whom she's free to approach on a whim. To her, the rest of us are visitors. She encourages the Admiral to adapt similar opinions, even if through jokes and a dazzling smile. I don't discourage her mistakes. She is horribly stubborn and likes to tell others what to do. I very much doubt the Admiral will last a week with her as a wife before he runs away. He is a strong and wilful man who will not stand for others giving him directions, how to act and what to think. I won't be surprised if he's already growing tired of clashing with her. Carmen is going home tonight.

Carmen:

Louisa tries, what she believes, to stand up to me. Passions blazing, I'm willing to accept the challenge that provides a perfect opportunity to put her back in her place when Thodore Groves appears to take James away. The ceremony is in quarter of an hour. Our still bachelor needs to reflect on who will be going home tonight. Without the desired man, the fight dissipates on its own. Trailing a handsome, tall figure with my eyes until he's gone, I walk into the garden where I nearly run into Joanna.

I yelp in fright. I don't like Joanna. She's always sad. She's always closed off. Looking at her, one may think she came to the funeral not the wedding. A man can spend an eternity unlocking her heart. I wouldn't wish such a curse for the Admiral to keep beating down the closed door. He must realise the need for a passionate woman to love him. Joanna will go home tonight.

Joanna:

"Unsophisticated creature, is she not?" Ramona attempts to strike a conversation with me in half-whisper. She discretely nods at Carmen as I enter the house after our unpleasant collision.

I utter a non-committal agreement and brush past her, heading towards Thelma. The youngest of us provides a better conversation. It's good to be intelligent, but Ramona cares nothing for normal, day to day happenings. There is a world past the books, which she should see. This is why her relationship with the Admiral is going nowhere. At first, he appreciated her knowledge, but now they can't seem to talk about anything real. Not about their feelings, not about any pragmatic things occupying their lives. I think tonight she's the best candidate to go home.

Ramona:

Olivia asks me a question to smoothen the discomfort caused by Joanna brushing past us. I grasp the opening in the interest of diplomacy. Pity allows me to acknowledge that she is a fine woman with a great deal of tact. Good qualities aside, the shroud of gossip shall never relinquish its hold on her. The Admiral may discourage vindictiveness. However, he is not indifferent to keeping a spotless reputation. A wife once drowned in disgrace may hurt his career and social standing. He will eventually let Olivia go - possibly tonight.

Olivia:

We are invited to the rose ceremony once more. It is a curious endeavour where each one of us faces the fear of rejection in a manner befitting of our personalities. Louisa and Carmen are looking up bravely to meet James' eyes. Joanna, in contrast, looks down at the floor. Whereas Thelma and Lucia are ready to bestow a hug on the one who needs it the most. What do I do when I'm nervous? I wish I could observe myself from the distance.

My mind is racing as the first rose is presented to Amanpreet. I've never seen a strong connection between them, but perhaps that's his way in encouraging her and smoothing his oversight. The next two roses are predictable, based on a visible attraction. They go to Brenda and Carmen. The rest is undetermined.

My heart is racing faster than I want it to when one more rose is taken from the tray and Joanna drifts back to her place with a minor smile.

"Olivia."

On wobbly legs, I reach James and accept the rose, only supported by the sound of his voice. The tension is palpable when I rejoin the line in front of him. There is only one rose left alone on the tray. Ramona or Louisa?

James picks up the red flower. There is always the longest pause before the last rose is handed out. I'm confident that James comes into the ceremony room already knowing who he will choose. What halts his hand is unwillingness to cause pain. He must collect his thoughts to say the right thing that will lessen the hurt. A small breath from him lets me know that he's ready.

"Louisa."

James:

We part with Ramona on good terms as expected of a collected, thoughtful woman. Having observed her interaction with Father Moore allows me to believe that she has a lot to offer to a man of her dreams, aside from her intellect, but I am not the man who can open that side of her. She must feel the same respect for me as I do for her without the romantic feelings. This is a mutually acceptable parting and a new page. This means my relationship with the remaining women is slowly moving onto a deeper level. As I return into their circle, I raise a glass to it.

* * *

><p><strong>Ladies Eliminated<strong>

1. Ramona – 21, bookish, educated, well mannered, reserved, long nose

2. Rhea – 26, compassionate, tender, widow, mother of three children

3. Tracy – 19, gossipy, not overly bright, nosy

4. Jade – 19, graceful, gifted in music and dancing

**Ladies Staying**

1. Amanpreet – 20, spoiled, pretends to be modest but isn't

2. Lucia – 22, pushover, modest, kind

3. Louisa – 21, outgoing, funny, honest, horse face

4. Thelma – 16, has many siblings, mature, reliable

5. Joanna – 23, lost her fiancée, melancholy, tries to live again

6. Carmen – 19, adventurous, free spirited, tomboy

7. Olivia – 23, well tempered, patient, disgraced, fiancée abandoned her

8. Brenda – 21, beautiful daughter of a broke nobleman


End file.
